


Meet Mr Smith

by theWAUfactor



Category: Sarah Jane Adventures, Sarah Jane Smith's Adventures
Genre: Alcohol, Existential Crisis, Implied Sexual Content, Other, Swearing, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 43,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6400114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theWAUfactor/pseuds/theWAUfactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrown unexpectedly into human form, Mr Smith, under the alias 'Smithy,' finds himself stumbling through the daily lives of the Bannermans and towards that for a member of mankind. The idea of relationships, nightlife, gazing upon a set of stars and seeing the dark side of the moon in those close intrigues a once reserved mindset, and encountering the mysterious salesman known by the name of Ozmo with promises of security upon permanence, Mr Smith undertakes an objective to stay human for as long as possible. Inspired by the official unreleased storyline with additional plot ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> //Exhales// AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA //Exits//

You might try to argue that a broader concept for contribution, otherwise known as Purpose, is merely a human social construct conjured up not too far back into the past as a vain means of laying down any foundations of worth within an unexplainably expanding universe. Birds however, will still weep whenever their mother leaves the nest, even if it is a repetitive process resulting in beneficial feed, and recent studies show that trees can actually cry out in distress despite not having a contextually biased set of emotions - which makes it no wonder that those you'd have never expected to might also be experiencing an element of existential turmoil, or even abide by it. 

It's certainly not unusual to try not to think about how if this world, were it to have been altered even slightly, would throw our understanding of life as it is off course. The atoms comprising our existence could undergo an exothermic reaction, or at the very least, you might shudder at the thought of a ten foot spider following an increase in oxygen. If someone brings up the topic of Quantum Physics you change the subject - either out of boredom or brainache. You attended school this morning, but currently you're home, so how can you know you were you actually at school in the first place? How can you prove it if it's not there right in front of you? In Schrödinger's terms, it either exists or it doesn't as long as it isn't observed.

Machines pulse facts, logic and whatever arithmetic is throughout their daily, and perhaps nightly, run; this brings us to the realisation that there's masses of information which needs translating - defining - somewhere, somehow, for if we can't do it there exists an inconsistency - and this disconnect is something we've discovered between us makes high-order thinking sentient beings uncomfortable. Therefore, let us say we were able to give a computer the ability to think for itself in some way, whether that be through the development of an artificial intelligence or naturally occurring stream of consciousness through a living organism. It's guaranteed they'll become overwhelmed, or at least, they will eventually.

Then let's say we allow it to experience the hustle bustle of human living. What happens then?  
This, is what we are very soon to find out.

The Sun beat onto the roads and gleamed in through the windows. Trees rustled in the slight breeze, and the few clouds dotting the sky were fluffy and pale, assuring those below them that there'd be no sign of a shower. Two cars were parked outside waiting to be used for a potential shopping trip as a means of soaking up the rays. The day was - statistically frequent with normality. A young adult, a Sixth Form couple and a preteenaged addition to this family of friends would trade jokes in their usual meeting spot, a senior rolling their eyes and stifling a laugh in the backdrop whilst focused on a holiday workload at their desktop computer. 

The girl of college age, Rani Chandra, stood by the door with the younger, Sky Smith, and began taking a measurement of her height with a pencil and meter stick.  
" _Another_ centimetre?" the older exasperated, snapping the stick shut and regaining her own posture. "What's Sarah Jane feeding you? That's not just alien, that's _weird_."  
Sky bounced back to admire the line drawn. "I like eating my greens," she replied with a boast of confidence. "Everyone at school throws them towards the bin, but I think that's a waste."  
"Sounds like someone I know," Rani snorted, looking at the college boy. "CLYDE. Maybe if you decide to eat your greens, you might actually stand a chance at reaching five and a half. She's BEATING YOU."  
Clyde looked up from his dual screen gaming console and pulled a face. "Watch it, or I'll bite your knee," he quipped.  
The man nearing his twenties pitted against the former shut his console lid and laughed. "Are you serious? Sky's actually reached further than five and half?! _Clyde_!"  
"It's alright Lukey-boy, I've smashed your record at Time Attack more than five times."  
A deep voice suddenly cut across the room.  
"Rani, I must say - it is illogical to take Sky's measurements using such a method when you could have asked for me to lend my scanning facilities."  
Said girl spun round startled to face where the remark had come from.  
Mr Smith was active in his usual space, screen displaying it's variegated fluid pattern.  
"Hey, don't take it personally," Rani told him. "This is how my mum used to take mine. It's a personal thing. Adds it's own little touch."  
A little too on cue, there came a crashing noise, arisen from the little stained glass window beside the entrance to the attic.  
Everyone spun round where they were standing or sprung from where they were sat, eyes rearing towards Mr Smith's Chassis which triggered alarms before he could have chosen to set them off. A small, dirt-covered sphere used it's spiked edges as a means of sticking to the keyboard.  
"What is i–?" Sarah Jane started, her voice strained.  
”–High levels of Mutagenic energy,” Mr Smith responded immediately. Steam bursted out from the Chassis vents. ”All of you! You must withdraw to safety. There are merely seconds before a blinding whiteout fills the atti–” 

With that command, Sarah Jane ushered the others out, able to spot the spherical object emitting a vibrant stream before smacking the door shut behind her. Her and those in her care proceeded to huddle together.  
He wasn't wrong. Illuminating from the hinges, was a burst of bright light lasting around a minute.

Followed by silence.

Sarah Jane slowly brought herself up again. ”Is everyone alright?” she asked the rest of them gently.  
They nodded slowly, clambering up after her.  
There wasn't any more action during what felt like another hour, though couldn't have been any longer than a sixteenth of that, until Luke raised an eyebrow and nudged Clyde with his elbow.  
”What's that noise?”  
From the other side of the door, was the sound of hurling, or coughing. Everyone exchanged glances and nodded, to which Luke closed his hand around the doorknob allowing them to find their way in once more, their attention brought to the centre of the room.

There lay someone on the floor with a dangerously purple face, spluttering uncontrollably. Through their ridiculously long locks of deep brown, you could decipher a naked frame so fragile it were almost skeletal, and rattling with most probable anxiety. 

The five stood for a moment, unsure where this person had come from, and unsure how to approach.

“Oxygen, get the oxygen,” Sarah Jane intervened then with haste. “You'll find it in the left cupboard — well, don't just STAND there! HURRY!”  
Rani ran towards the cupboard, unbolting it to retrieve a green tank and slamming it shut as she darted back towards the new arrival. Clyde fetched a tartan blanket from the sofa, placing it over them first, who peered up at the two with innocent watering eyes; the irises were seemingly prismatic, fragmented into a multitude of colours like a kaleidoscope.  
Rani lifted the stranger's head slowly. ”I-it's going to be alright,” she assured them in a soft, friendly voice, pulling the mask connected to the tank over their mouth. ”It's alright, see? There you go. You're alright. We've got you. I promise.”

Sarah Jane paced over, flipping open her watch and scanning the individual sprawled across the floor. ”Human,” she proclaimed. ”Height: 6'4, Weig-oh goodness, that's vulnerable. 136lbs. Blood Type A. No name or traces of family, but that isn't too much a substantial loss. No broken bones, that's the definition of a lucky fall—hold on. Subject sufferers from Emphysema.”  
Subject in question made a muffled, panicked sound with shrunken pupils.  
”I think we should take them to hospital,” Sky chimed in. ”If we have the medical ... Things — we can make up the rest! They're going to die. I don't want them to die.” Her lips quivered. "We don't even know them—"  
"They won't die as long as we have the right amount of oxygen for them," Luke assured her, moving nearer to the girl to give her a hug. He turned to Sarah Jane. ”She's right, though. You should take them, check for a diagnosis and see what is actually the best treatment for them. We can easily prepare documents, I'll try to get Mr Smith up and running again; it shouldn't be too difficult if the Chassis has just blown a switch.”

Clyde and Rani were already lifting the body, the first with a worried look appearing upon his face.  
”Wow. They ARE skinny,” Clyde exasperated as he took the legs. "All you can feel is _bone_."  
Rani hauled the back into her arms. "I hate to say it, but-" She quickly readjusted the blanket. ”If a random bloke's came crashing through our window, never mind the fact that we now know he has Emphysema, I'd already have thought that he hasn't had a great time of it.”  
Sarah Jane scurried behind the two, grabbing the handle of the oxygen tank. ”Whenever we're back, we're back.” She told Luke. ”Just try and get Mr Smith!”  
Luke nodded, opening the attic door and watching the four out.

After Sarah Jane, Clyde, Rani had left with the struggling stranger, he reached for the toolbox resting upon a bookshelf and kneeled down against Mr Smith's Chassis, rummaging for a screwdriver and taking apart a strip of metal. Sky began hurriedly circling the room without an aim, until her eyes were fixed on a particular area.  
Luke heard her stop moving. ”Is something wrong?” he asked.  
She faltered. ”The crystal.”  
Luke spun quickly. ”The crystal?”  
”Look!” Sky ran for the cabinet where the Xylok would have laid. ”He's gone!”  
”Gone?!” Luke repeated again. He darted for the broken window. ”Mum!” he cried from it. "MUM!” But the Nissan Figaro had already started rolling away. Luke faced his sister. ”We need to do something. Right now.”  
”W-what?”  
"I-I don't know," he responded after spending time to think, sounding immensely defeated. With a worried sigh, he turned violently towards the top of the cabinet. 

”W-who—Who is that?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHh goodness, this introductory is taking far longer than I wanted it to! Consequently, I'll be splitting it into two chapters for the two settings used.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support so far! GGAH.  
> You seriously don't know how much I've wanted to write this. I've literally been chickening out over it for years

The Bannerman Road Gang were a family of closely netted friends who'd been roped together under bizarre circumstances as resulted from possessing their own ... _Singularities_.

The eldest of the six, Sarah Jane Smith, had seen the stars from a place other than the gravitational field which pulls us down to Earth. She was fortunate enough to travel with a man who wasn't from 'around here,' to glide through time and space, capturing unimaginable memories to those who'd stayed within the solar system. Though she did return some decades ago, the excitement never seemed to leave her alone, happening to follow her to her doorstep and make itself at home.

She later adopted a son by the name of Luke – created by a unit of Cthulhuesque beings under the guise of a carbonated drinks bottling company. With a mind generated from thousands of scans, Luke was a genius in academic respects. He later found himself with a premature entry and graduation from Oxford University, working at the PHAROS Institute, whilst her daughter Sky was recently adopted having also been created by those who were new to our soils and starting at secondary school to see how she would manage, the school which Clyde and Rani continued attending for the Sixth Form, two average college students thrown out of their ordinary lives depicting the anti-conformist and proschool subcultures and into that of extraterrestrial empiricism the moment they stepped foot into Ealing - stepped foot into the lives of the Smiths.

But Mr Smith mostly kept to himself. He was not human, nor was he computer; however, the more he insisted the latter, the more those he knew decided to say the opposite. The truth of the matter was that there'd been things he'd kept hidden, which Luke, Sky, Clyde and Rani and even Sarah Jane weren't made aware of. He wondered if they wondered alike how he wondered, and wondered if they wondered if he could wonder alike when —

— The arrival was taken into A &E and hospitalised for a week.

As expected, despite his knowledge, Luke had still been unable to boot up Mr Smith's Chassis again - although it seemed he wouldn't have needed to. By the time the stranger regained his awareness, if he were to he spoke of them, there had been documents prepared on file.

Surprising? Not particularly.  
Unusual? Absolutely. 

Luke printed them out and handed them to Sarah Jane in secret as soon as she arrived home.

The following Saturday, the two of them were sat waiting in the reception area until a nurse led them through to the patient's room. 

Hooked up to countless machines, there lie a man who looked as though he'd only recently hit the mid of his three tens, visibly trying to make himself comfortable beneath a thin sheet of coarse fabric.  
"There was a dispatch of supplemental oxygen addressed to you earlier on in the week which should arrive this afternoon," the nurse explained. "This must be administered sixteen hours a day, and we'll be providing you with a meal plan he needs to be following at home." She strapped the Velcro of a BP machine around one of the stranger's scrawny arms. "I will say, he's an obstinate one. It took us days until we could get him to start talking!" The woman gushed, removing the device following a result. "He's ex-tre-mel-y arti-culate as well, is-ant he?!”  
The stranger in turn lifted his head lightly and with a soft laugh replied: "You could sweep me off my feet with that broom of yours."  
The nurse squeaked, grasping at the wood rested against the wall and her face seeping red at a rather alarming rate. "Ca-ll me if you wa-nt me—!" She yelped as she galloped out with it.  
The door clicked shut, cueing Sarah Jane to approach him. "Who are you?" she asked, channelling haste.  
The stranger responded carefully, in a low voice dripping with baritone. "Oh, Sarah Jane, really. I should have thought that was perfectly obvious." A deft movement of the neck swiped away any stands of hair covering his face. His eyes lit up, to which she finally recognised the multitude of colours reflecting within their irises. 

"I'm _Mr Smith_."

Sarah Jane shot him a look crossing the lines between surprise and shock. "But according to the scans, you're human!" she exasperated.  
"That makes me sound terribly dull." Disappointment extinguished the light from man's pupils. He continued to shuffle in his position, the many wires sounding a collective clunk. "Scan again, scan for excitement!"  
Luke sized him up apprehensively. "Sky looked at the desk and found the crystal wasn't there.”  
"I scanned the wall unit," Sarah Jane intervened. "There were no traces of it there either. We thought it was destroyed." She knelt down next to the bed and quietened her voice to a whisper. "We thought you were dead."  
The stranger brought out his left hand from underneath the duvet. ”If by dead, you mean sitting in a hospital bed and too coincidentally still relying on machines, well!" He twisted his wrist and let slip a guttural laugh. "–Then break out the black crepe. Oh _goodness_. I-"  
Before being able to register it, Sarah Jane moved forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He heard a sniffle, and slowly stopped twisting his wrist, hesitating, before fastening himself around her in return.  
”We have to call you a different name now, I guess." Luke creased his forehead. "Otherwise it'd sound a little formal."  
The stranger snorted. ”Heavens, no. Don't.”  
”Still Mr Smith?"  
”Call me Smithy,” he cut in, removing one arm from Sarah Jane so he could curl one of the ends of his hair. ”It has a nice ring to it. Don't you think?” He smiled in a way which allowed you to see his teeth. They weren't particularly flattering, jagged, a soft enamel discolouring the sides and rows slightly disjointed at the front; though they could have been worse, and you were able to tell the expression was genuine from the warmth it gave, so it didn't matter anyway. "A ni-ce ri-ng t'it, Smi-thee—"  
”Heavens, no. Don't." Sarah Jane laughed at the imitation of his nurse, to which the other two laughed with her.  
Smithy's eyes glistened again, this time alike that of an adult discovering the sweet shop they visited as a child crossing down an old alleyway. "Everything, everything's in colour," he told the pair siding him softly. He stretched his hand out towards Sarah Jane's hair, touching it gently with the ends of his fingertips. "Chestnut brown. But I can see it now. I can see what I've always known is there. It's very ... beautiful. Though rather blurry."  
Luke glanced over at Sarah Jane as if to ask her if she had anything to provide the newcomer.  
"A-ah," She reached into her cardigan pocket and brought out a pair of glasses. "You might find these useful. I can always pop into the optician's on the way home and pick a pair up for you if they are."  
Smithy shakily went to take them. "T-these are perfect," he replied quickly with an exhale of relief followed by a small cough. "T-thank you."  
"I've packed a set of clothes for you to wear in the meanwhile as well," Sarah Jane told him. She rose from her position and placed her hands on her hips. 

"After you've changed, we can get you back home and look into everything."


	3. Chapter 3

Upon their return, Sarah Jane gestured toward someone waiting outside the attic to enter.

Smithy gingerly stepped through the door. The garments she'd picked out were from her own wardrobe, brown linen trousers with a matching pair of leather shoes and waistcoat, a white ironed blouse underneath. To get an idea of just how fragile he really was, even they fitted rather loosely on him, though the wear would do for the time being. Sarah Jane stayed true to her word in that a very recently fixed set of rectangular-lens glasses were now resting upon the bridge of his nose. By the handle, he pulled in after him a green tank a quarter of his height with a nasal cannula attached.

The room fell silent as three sets of young eyes fixed themselves upon the arrival.  
Smithy squirmed awkwardly at the attention. He thought he would have adjusted to it naturally, responsible for providing vital information on call through his Chassis. However, this felt different. Thought the computer weren't strictly a shell, it certainly acted as something to hide behind.

"You're looking at him as though he's armed," Sarah Jane told the others, an agitated edge to her voice.  
Smithy raised a quivering finger. "Unless you count the oxygen tank." He wheezed nervously.  
It was at this point without warning, avoiding the proclamations and attempted restraints from his friends, that Clyde clambered towards the safe, punched in the code and wielded the gun contained within. "We really can't be trusting you so easily," he snarled through gritted teeth. "This whole thing is just, it's just — REALLY uncool." There was a pause in his train of thought. "It's giving me the Willies."  
Rani looked distressfully towards the Chassis. "Is Mr Smith okay?" she asked.

"–Yes, I am."

They turned to where the voice seemed to rise from and ended up facing Smithy again, who'd now resorted to an awkward twirl of the fingers. "The empty sphere latched onto the control pad is harmless," he tried to explain. "I've managed to absorb the Mutagenic agent a—" The stranger shifted towards the overshadowing silhouette leeching into the corner of his eye. "Clyde, this could go so much smoother if you were to stop threatening me with that Trantarian nose clipper."  
"Not moving," the boy in question snapped back with a sharp emphasis on the 't' and a serious look as he levelled the ends with the newcomer's face.  
Smithy pursed his lips anxiously. "I guess in order to convince you, I'm going to need to start from scratch."

He began to reel off everyone's names, pointing at said person per turn. There was silence after that, which resulted in him wrapping himself around. He felt an uncomfortable beating in his chest and force within his throat, which led him to ride off a series of declarative facts to provide more satisfying evidence for the keen ears in what could only have been panic.  
"Instead of using your time trying to intimidate me, you might as well make a start on that Picasso essay you're already a week behind on - the one you wouldn't stop calling by for in multiple poor attempts to try to get me to write it for you, Clyde. Or you could be prepping a nervous Rani for her seventeenth driving lesson tomorrow. Maybe disciplining a certain lady for getting through an entire packet of custard creams last night whilst researching an article on solar energy—"

The group reared their heads towards Sarah Jane with smirks amongst their faces. The woman made a strained noise of disapproval.

"—Perhaps marvelling over how Sky could have grown three inches in a fortnight," Smithy moved on quickly, though of course without no contribution to the chuckle he'd just instigated.  
"You're just lucky you're away at Oxford," Sarah Jane muttered bitterly to Luke.  
"Well," Sky chipped in. "You do TALK like Mr Smith."  
The university student joined her in an attempt to part ways with the renowned look of harsh circumstantial disagreement which somehow managed to reach mothers across the world. "Just with the filters taken out," he remarked.  
"V-Voicing your thoughts isn't as easy like this," Smithy told them, beginning to fumble his fingers whilst gazing down at them as he laced them between each other as he spoke. "When you've never had to use another tool in order to translate script from your verbal stream of consciousness as a means of creating dialogue, the process takes quite some time getting used to."  
They'd no idea what Smithy was talking about, looking at one another for ideas how to respond, and ended up nodding sympathetically in turn.

Aside from one.

"This is a trick." Clyde asserted again, insistent still on disregarding what the newcomer had to say.  
The visitor mentally prepared himself and turned to face the younger man.  
It hit this younger man only now just how tall the older was, needing to crook his neck upwards from least half a foot down.  
Smithy narrowed his eyes. "No, this is a trick," he replied softly—

—Producing an ace of hearts from behind the boy's ear.

Clyde staggered back, eyebrows arched high and mouth hanging open in disbelief. "H-HOW DID Y–"  
Smithy snapped the fingers holding the card, to which an entire deck then spilled outwards. Exclamations of surprise rose into the air.  
"There's a pack of cards behind the archive Luke uses during his respite," he explained. "If you're able to locate them and have an understanding of visual-spatial awareness and speed distance time, you can create the illusion of spontaneous materialisation." A grin surfaced again. "Of course though, everything I've said and done just now is merely a gimmick. Isn't that right, Clyde?"

Clyde shook his head as the thought of instigating further debate wiped itself from his mind immediately.

Smithy clicked his fingers a second time, and the cards seemed to vanish into mid-air. "I've always wanted to do that," he mused with what sounded like a sigh.  
Sarah Jane stepped forward suddenly. "Do you actually know anything about this?" she asked him.  
His look was vacant, staring at a crack in the ceiling, until a weak shrug surfaced upon his bony shoulders. "I don't know," he responded, and the tone sounded honest. Smithy grasped his right hand into his left and struck them down in front of him shyly. "But I am exactly who I say I am, and who you think I am."  
Rani folded her arms. "So, you ARE Mr Smith?" she pressed forward.  
He looked up in affirmation.  
Th schoolgirl frowned, her lips curling into an unsure grimace. "That's really strange."  
"It is, isn't it?" Smithy dragged his oxygen tank infront of him and used the handle to straighten out his back. "W-well, I mean, obviously the Chassis is still intact. You could connect a hard-drive and mouse to it and it would work like an ordinary computer. I think you all forget I'm not actually the machine itself." His fingertips shakily danced across his lips. "I guess you could see me as a mind manipulating the body from the outside. I don't want any of you to take offence to this, but through our crystalline lattices, Xyloks have always looked down upon humans. We've always thought to live as one would be quite disgusting. See, using this concept of us being a brain, you would be three pounds of water, lipids and neurones - cased within a sack of meat." He shuddered and the need for a ruthless cough interrupted his ponder, to which he then found it fit to sardonically add: "Not only am I human now, it seems I'm also at a substantial disadvantage in contrast with the rest of you. So this is rather fortunate."

The attic fell into another silence, and Smithy began ringing his hands. "I–I don't think I've ever actually explained the phenomena of Mutagenic energy, have I, Sarah Jane?"

An uncertain look flashed into Sarah Jane's eyes.

The ringing of hands changed to the tugging of hair. "Mutagenic energy is a radioactive substance which causes —well— genetic mutation, as the name suggests," Smithy explained. The others listened intently, as though it were another day he were using his Chassis as a means of describing a recent occurrence they'd been investigating. "Approximately one hundred and sixty million years ago, before cybernetic enhancements became the preferred method, we would take advantage of Mutagenic energy as a means of communication. Colour change, projection, telekinesis, telepathy – there's an inexhaustible list of capabilities which stem from it's usage. During the aftermath of the collision, one Xylok harnessed an incredible quantity and introduced metamorphosis into the equation. As we were underground, it were only natural he managed to trace the structure of a mole. 

Of course however, first trials are rarely successful. Using sonar, we located the cadaver, impaled from the inside out by crystalline shards, reaching out for the surface. Over centuries, many have tried to use Mutagenic energy for it's metamorphic capabilities - though due to it being radioactive, this could only be temporary. The results on every turn would mirror the previous, for something as small as a bird or something as demanding as a deer. Contradictorily, another Xylok proposed that if one were to harness multiple large channels over a short period of time, they would be able to maintain that cell structure permanently with no further damage. Discourse arose from Mutagentic foundation for thousands of years. Until of course, the Industrial Revolution and the rise of machinery - or return thereof, in our sake."

"This must be deliberate then," Sarah Jane decided. "And I think whoever placed that sphere there is the one responsible." She folded her arms. "We've just got to figure out who planned this!" With that, the woman headed outside to make a phone call.  
Smithy watched her leave, approaching the vase resting upon her workspace and sniffing a tulip. The others watched, exchanging glances and apprehensive over whether or not to intrude.  
Sarah Jane bolted back five minutes later. "I've contacted UNIT," she intervened sharply. "They're aware of the situation and said there's no activity from the buried Xylok crysta—what are you doing snooping around my DESK?!"

Smithy rolled up his blouse, carefully placing the tulip into his naval.

Rani returned her gaze to the newcomer and walking over to remove it. "Oi, c'mere," she tutted playfully, grasping two strands of his hair and tying it between them. Admiring her handiwork, she stepped back with a confident hands on the hips. "THAT'S better!"

Smithy blinked, startled, to which Sky laughed.

On instinct, the older girl then spun towards the chimney. "M-"  
"Smithy?" The newcomer seemed to have moved elsewhere, an arm now rested on the head of the sofa. "Over here." He faced Sky, now allowing him to try out the different fruits residing in the nearby bowl. The girl popped a cherry into his mouth. "Unless you're expecting an answer from Father Christmas, I wouldn't bother," he told her with the cherry evidently stored in his left cheek.  
Clyde swaggered forward slightly. Everyone knew what was coming. "Oi, Rani." That familiar goofy grin. "I guess you could say you m-"

"-Might as well be talking to a brick wall?"  
At beating a disheartened Clyde to the punchline, Smithy triumphantly tossed an apple aside and took a bite into a banana without peeling it.

"I'm going to download data from UNIT's Skywatch satellites," Sarah Jane piped up suddenly. "They should ideally be able to explain just what's happening to you."  
Smithy's eyebrows arched, as he pulled a string of the banana from his overbite. " _Must_ you?" he asked. He stood upright and clasped his hands together. "They said 'No Alien Activity,' _ergo_ day off, _ergo_ — let's go out? Let's go out! The _shops_ , you _all love going down to the shops_ , _let's all go to the shops_ —"  
Sarah Jane narrowed her eyes. "You're staying right here," she told Smithy lowly.  
"Sorry? No! No, please! You can't do that!" Smithy rose his clasped hands to the left, down and to the right, in another nervous motion. "I'm experiencing everything firsthand! You couldn't possibly understand how dispiriting it is being unable to engage with your environment in the practical sense! I've heard so many things about outside, but where have I been? _Underground_! An _attic_! I want to get candyfloss from a pop-up van and go on one of those coin operated 'kiddie' rides outside Tesco! Secondly, imprisoning a fascinating lifeform like this. It's incredibly selfish-" He hesitated. A smile creeped onto his hollow face. "-Or perhaps she wants me all to herself, eh kids?"  
Her face flushed red as Smithy frog-stepped towards the door pulling his tank after him. A mixed reaction came from the others, Rani and Clyde cringing whilst Luke and Sky raising an eyebrow each.  
"Sky and I discussed it; you can have our room, by the way," Luke told the one exiting. "I'll be gone by this afternoon, and you'll need a bed with your condition - so I'll stay here with Mum and make sure it's tidy."

Smithy made his thanks clear before his face disappeared behind the door.  
His movements were slow, somewhat graceful, and not just because they needed to be – but simply because they were. There was a pattern - a sequence - a beat, like the consistent ticking of a metronome which still struck; yet, there were also a newly found element of something childlike, and somewhat curious. The world was suddenly within reach instead of an elaborate fantasy compiled from file upon file, and if you thought the neighbour peeping over your fence was too much, you hadn't seen the ghost of a machine specialising in analytical skill.

He gently leaped out of the attic, though whilst out of sight, it was impossible to miss the shriek of

"Good lord, what terrible wallpaper!"

To which Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. "Keep an eye on him," she told the others sternly as they proceeded to follow.

She turned back to her desk and exhaled heavily.  
Luke peeked outside from the broken stain glass window and saw the four leave the house. Smithy interchangeably seemed to lead, fault, and let another go ahead, Sky remaining beside him whilst either one of Clyde and Rani took the other and returned to their companion's almost as though they were taking turns.

There was a yell from Rani as Smithy parted from Sky and aimlessly crossed the road just before a car drove past. The man turned back and waved his hand dismissively with a laugh. Luke turned away and left them to it.

Upon hearing a rustle, he made his way toward the desk the woman was sat at. "Are you okay, Mum?" he asked quietly.  
Sarah Jane smiled emptily. "I'm fine! I just–-" She cupped her chin. "I'm just - just thinking, that's all. Thinking, feeling—"  
"Isn't that what brains are meant to do?"  
She chuckled heartedly. "You're my little star, you know that? I'm just -- just having so many different thoughts at once, Luke. Oh Luke, you know how that feels! Of course you would, wouldn't you; you have to sort out the thoughts of more than too many minds every day!"  
Luke puffed out a cheek modestly. "It's nothing," he assured her. He scratched his head. "Is what you're thinking about to do with what's been going on lately?"  
To that she didn't answer.  
Hesitation.  
"Mr Smith's acting very different, isn't he?"  
Sarah Jane raised her head slightly. "He's unsure." She straightened her back against the support. "Or maybe this is what he's really like! And I want to believe him. I want to believe him, but there's something, something telling me a truth lies in what Clyde was trying to say. We can't place all of our trust into this. I mean-" Her voice resumed in lowly tones. "The three of us of all people should know."  
There was a pause —  
— and Luke nodded solemnly.

.....  
..........  
..............

After thirty minutes, Sarah Jane rose from her seat.  
A visit to the Headquarters was a far better option.

She told Luke she was going out to see if elsewhere were fit to scout for information, and left him in charge of the house.

GOOD LUCK WITH THAT DARLING

There was a click on the attic door.

I *WOULD* MAKE SURE YOU WERE UNABLE TO FIND ANYTHING IN THAT LOT, LADY  
YOU SEE  
I *HAVE* BEEN VERY CAREFUL

.......

.............

 

....................

The computer was  
still on.

The monitor flickered, and a foreign set of code began to scroll across the webpage in a strange fashio —I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' 

V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U I ' V E G O T Y O U

 

I'VE GOT YOU  
RIGHT  
WHERE I WANT  
YOU


	4. Chapter 4

"Would you say this was appropriate?"

Smithy drew open the curtain to reveal ... the exact same suit he wore last time.  
"You haven't changed," Rani told him.  
"I _did_!" He stepped back to reveal those on the hangers. "They don't have the same barcode!"  
Rani laughed. "It's a spitting image of the first!" She folded her arms. "I mean, you could buy it. But wouldn't it be a waste of money if you own one identical to the other?"

The man hovered a finger above his chin in thought. "I'm going to need another item of clothing to wear whilst this one is in the wa-" He faulted suddenly. "Actually..." Smithy's line of vision lay further onward from the department they currently stood, and following it, Rani faced him again with surprise laced into her features.  
"Wait, are y-"  
"Yes! _Yes_ , I am!" Smithy exclaimed, though he hesitated then upon reading her expression. "Hold on. Is that a probl—?"  
"N-no! No, of course not!" Rani bit her lip. "I just-you just-we don't usually see many m-"

But Smithy had already past her, scuttling hastily onward after changing back into the original wear he don.

Reaching the back wall, the man soothed both thumbs over an item of silk.  
His eyes glimmered. "I'd like to buy this," he pressed, them fixed upon the garment. "It's incredibly sof-no, have a feel."  
Rani awkwardly fiddled with the fabric. "T-that is very soft," was her reply, and she found herself nodding appreciatively. 

Smithy slowly let go, beginning to scour the shelves from left to right. "There are so many different colours; there are so many different patterns," he uttered to himself as he cocked his head. "... So many different fits, unlike the suits. The suits were tedious. The blazer, the polo, the tie, the trousers – it's linear and cut, and for no reason in particular! With these however, our choice as the consumer grows immensely. They're so exquisite in their design." Smithy clasped his hands together. "They're so _beautiful_."  
Rani stalled, unsure why she'd taken her initial approach now smiling widely.

"Well, if you're going dress shopping, you've come to the right place!"

It took two hours browsing and ten concerned messages from Clyde to convince the two of them they needed to leave, the first in a new short-sleeved t-shirt, denim skirt and a matching jacket, the second in a red trumpet dress. The one in the short sleeved t-shirt happened to be struggling with the bags of which the items laid tucked inside didn't belong to her — the second watching a breeze upon the slight frills gliding over his now high heeled feet as he pulled an oxygen tank behind him.

The one awaiting their arrival was accompanied by Sky, stationed at an outlet supermarket.  
Today was a cheap lunch, on him, and young and curious minds alike, it didn't take any of them long to decide on a bite to eat and head for one of the counters.

"You like those, don't you?" Rani laughed, looking over at Smithy as she scanned her baguette at a self service checkout.  
He nodded as he found a vacant one next to her. "If there's something I've always been interested in trying, it has to be natural fruits," he told her, beginning to process the punnet of Darlisette strawberries, before the all too familiar squawk of—

" **UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA**." 

The man jolted.

" **REMOVE THIS ITEM BEFORE CONTINUING**."

Smithy rolled his eyes, fishing his cannula out from one of the plastic bags waiting to be used. " _Talking machines_!" He turned to Rani. "Don't you just _hate_ them?"  
His friend responded with the all too infamous you can't be you serious face, watching helplessly as the man waved away the assistant and (most probably illegally) accessed the mainframe, slotting in a few of the pound coins Clyde allowed him and finally picking up his bags, grabbing the handle of his tank and sashaying out of the store. 

Nearing Bannerman Road, Smithy continued to immerse himself in shenanigans as he walked at quite a distance behind the rest of them. It was only when Clyde took a closer look they realised why this was the case.   
The college boy sighed impatiently. "Jesus Christ. This is worse than Luke and Sky _combined_."  
"And THEN–" the man continued, taking slow, large steps as he pulled on the tank handle in one hand and held a ridiculously large book of fairytales in the other. "They all lived happy. Ever after." His eyes rose from behind the hardback. "These are quite lovely adaptations! Though I do find myself rather outraged at the injustice of the ugly sisters leaving Cinderella at home whilst they go out to the ball."

Clyde struggled to read the expression which suddenly cast itself onto Smithy's face.

Smithy used his fingers to snap the book shut. "I think she should have gotten the choice to go with them instead instead of catching dust by the fireplace," he mumbled with an air of something sounding almost sorrowful, and resumed walking.   
Clyde and Rani exchanged same uncertain glance.  
"L-Let's just leave it," the latter told the former, checking to see if Sky (who so happened to be picking flowers from a stranger's garden) was still behind her and catching up with Smithy, moving now with slightly more vigour which meant he were considerably far ahead of them.

Shortly following this discourse, at the final turning before Number Thirteen, they then found themselves bumping into familiar company sporting the features of a rather short woman with olive skin and bobbed dark hair, wearing a floral purple shirt, jeans and a smile so wide you'd have thought she hadn't seen her daughter in seventeen years.

"Ra-ni! Ra-NI!" 

Gita scurried forward - before noticing the recently acquianted to the neighbourhood. "Oh, he-ll-o there! So, so, who's this new fella then?" The woman took this opportunity to tiptoe over to Smithy's direction. "I love, lo-ve, LOVE your dress! Wait, wait! Let me guess-"  
'' _Jaeger_ ," they said at the same time.  
Gita clasped her hands together and squealed in delight. "I guessed right, I guessed right! You see?" She poked Rani playfully. "I AM keeping up on the latest fashions, Miss Cheeky!"  
"Mum, meet Mr Smith," Rani parted between the two of them in order to help the introduction go as smoothly as possible.

"Smithy's a — good friend of Sarah Jane. An old friend, 'been abroad for a few years!" she turned to the man and asked him in a low voice: " _Where have you been_?"  
He shot her an uncertain look, shutting his eyes in thought. "I w-well - most of my work has been done sat at a computer - which would mean, as much as I could have revelled in being able to said that I might have scoured the sights of capital centrals, say, France, I really—" The man paused, opening his eyes and flashing a grin Gita's way. "Are you sure this isn't your sister, Rani?"  
The woman gawked. "Hoohoohoohoohoo- _h_!" She fanned her face enthusiastically. "You don't look a day over twenty five yourself! So what do we mean by good friend then, eh? That Sarah - oh! - she never tells me _anything_!" And, to nobody: _She could have introduced me._  
Smithy laughed bashfully. "I-I would like to think we're past professional terms, though that doesn't mean I can't be polite to this fine young woman here." He took Gita's other hand and kissed it. " _Le bonheur est souvent la seule chose qu'on puisse donner sans l'avoir, et c'est en le donnant qu'on l'acquiert_." The man spoke with eloquent pronunciation, an accent as though the language were his mother tongue.

The woman found herself even more flustered, now wrapping herself around and giggled like a little girl. "W-well well well—! I run the flower shop. Down the road!"  
Rani rolled her eyes.  
"Y-you can drop by any time! I'll be there." Gita took another step forward, near to treading on the man's toes. "I'll be waiting."  
"Mum-"  
"B-Because I work there, at the flower shop, no, no not because I'm waiting around for you, I mean, I work there, you know? But nonononono, oh god, oh heaven Lord, Christ above, I would love to see you drop b-"  
"Mum."  
"'Bloomin' Lovely." 

Gita handed Smithy a business card and winked. "I can get your carnations half price."   
The man raised an eyebrow.  
At that notion, Gita swiftly took this chance to leave, waving back more than a few times with the same ecstatic smile, almost tripping on the curb, before entering the house opposite.  
Rani flashed him a serious look. "If you start tangling your wires around me Mum, I'm never coming out of my room again."

When dusk began to settle, so did the excitement from the first hours.

They bid Luke a farewell on the doorstep, and Clyde decided at the moment it were about time he headed home to lend a hand with the evening meal. Rani was sat with Sky, helping her out with an English paper. 

An exhausted Sarah Jane would have sat with them also, were it not for the newspapers and print-outs she'd assigned herself to study in time for an end of week deadline. However, current events were working well in frazzling her - not to mention her printer was now exhausted of ink from a stream of numerical data flooding all sheets she had previously stored, said to derive from UNIT itself, however being indecipherable by her son when she rung him up and enquired about it, never mind her alone.  
Defeated, the woman reached into the biscuit tin, feeling for a custard cream-

"Naughty! NaU—GHTY–"

-and jumped, startled, turning toward from whence the proclamation had arisen.

Smithy, peeking through a crack in the door. He wore an elegant pair of silk baby blue pyjamas, which alike Sarah Jane's clothes, fit noticeably loose.

"There are sixty two calories in an average custard cream," he told her. "Which isn't a lot, until we consider the fact you've eaten double your weight in them over the past twenty four hours."  
"Since when did you go from being an extraterrestrial supercomputer to my personal calorific diary?" Sarah Jane asked cynically as she flicked a page of the newspaper.  
"Now wouldn't that have been a terrible investment," Smithy replied with a sheepish smile, and carefully stepped in through the dark. His eyes found the twinkle of stars outside. The smile on his face softened further. "I'm still in awe, Sarah Jane, I-I'm sorry, this is just-" He traced his finger across the window, and looking up from her work, Sarah Jane noticed he were aligning the constellations. "Did I mention everything is so much more vibrant?" he asked her gently.  
Sarah Jane closed the newspaper and placed a hand on the kitchen surface. "Yes, you did," she replied. 

"S-sarah Jane." 

The man found himself wriggling awkwardly.  
Said woman tilted her head. "What is it, Mr Smith?"  
Smithy hesitated for a moment. "Look at me."  
She did so and froze.  
"All the years we've been working together, Sarah Jane, I knew you were a remarkable lady," he began, and aware this woman were now listening to him intently, he found his eyelashes fluttering away from her. "But now - well. Seeing you in a whole new light ... in a nutshell ..."

The man slid across the floor with his tank as though they were on an ice rink.

"Ding dong!" 

His confidence strengthened by her laughter, Smithy took Sarah Jane's hand into his and spun her around before sweeping for the door.

" _When the sun hits the sky like a big pizza pie tha–t's amore_ —!"

The last note continued down the hall.

And at that, Sarah Jane found the mirror and squeaked at a red faced, large eyed woman staring back.

The night drew in quickly. The moon was low, the clouds dissipated, stars twinkling like fairy lights sewn into a blanket.  
Sky was tasked with putting the recent arrival to sleep. She carefully removed Smithy's glasses and pulled the tubes out of his nose. 

"Mum said you won't be needing these!" The girl giggled, and wheeled the tank behind the bedside cabinet.  
Smithy sighed with relief. "Thank goodness." There was something in his posture which suggested there was something else on his mind, and being the curiously minded individual she was, Sky couldn't help but find out what could possibly be different. "What's the matter?" 

She watched as Smithy's pupils shrunk. He collapsed against the headboard. There was an interval between their dialogue, before he unexpectedly launched forward and grasped at one of the girl's shoulders. 

"Do you think I'll be capable of sleep, Sky?" he pressed her anxiously. "If I am, will I be able to dream? I might be like Luke, I might not have the capability to fabricate dreams. Then what am I to do? How can you shut off thought if you're left alone with yourself? Does it just happen?"

Sky took a moment to register this sudden outburst, after which, she decided it were to be met with a laugh. "Usually, _I'm_ the one asking _you_ the questions!" The girl paused taking some time to think. "Okay. Well, it took me a while, too! I just kind of - shut my eyes, and thought about things the which made me feel 'happy and safe!' You could either do that, or you could simply j-"

However, her lecture was prematurely ended by the intervening of a loud snore.

"Oh, you did it? You did it! You see? Better than me, at that! I guess I should say Goodnight, Smithy!"

Sky sprung from the bed, halting though suddenly as she felt for something resting in her top pockets. Finding it, the girl carefully removed the same tulip Smithy had plucked from Sarah Jane's vase that morning, and memorising how Rani had done so, laced it through his hair as he continued drifting off into a deep sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Rest was - _arguably_ \- well had until both Sarah Jane and Sky were roused by an incoherent yelling for the third time over the course of the past eight hours.

The younger headed downstairs to see what she wanted for breakfast. The eldest stood outside the bedroom from whence the noise had arisen, waiting.  
The door creaked open at half past ten.  
"So, what were you watching?" Sarah Jane asked.  
The man entering the landing could have jolted out of his skin.  
She folded her arms. "It must have been important if you woke us up at 1, 5 and 9 the morning!"  
Smithy frowned. "Watch...ing...?" His eyes widened in realisation. "Ah! Infant Penguins and Their Mothers: A Documentary. Was it Infant Penguins? Yes. Yes, yes it was-" He nodded seriously. "Someone tried to take control of the remote. As soon as I see them, I'm certainly going to give them a piece of my mind. Y-"  
"Your meal plan is on the fridge," Sarah Jane cut him off with an amused tut as she climbed the stairs to the attic, making sure not to forget playfully slipping in "You do realise it's just a dream don't you, Mr Smith?!"

But he'd already found the kitchen.  
"Good morning, Sky."  
Sky looked up from her bowl of cereal. "Good morning, Smithy!" she replied through a mouthful, watching as the man entered and freed a sheet of paper from beneath one of the fridge magnets.  
Smithy narrowed his eyes, skimming the text quickly. "Breakfast: x3 Cornflakes with semi-skimmed milk. 500ml, Orange juice. A full cream yogurt-" He slammed the paper onto the table, making Sky jump. "I wasn't even asked about this!"  
"Mum said you needed to eat," the girl told him before scooping up her bowl and drinking the milk left over at the bottom. "You're too skinny. Apparently we were lucky to get you out of the hospital as early as we did!"  
"They could have at least asked me for my preferences." Smithy shuddered. "Cornflakes are so _plain_. I _don't_ like the bits in yogurt, _or orange juice_ for that matter. The textures are somewhat _...slimy_." It was at that moment the man spied a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts sitting appetisingly beside the hob, most likely those remaining from when Clyde visited the Smiths during the time he was in hospital. 

"There are doughnuts still."  
"There are," Sky confirmed.  
"They haven't passed their sell by date."  
"Not for another day or two."  
Smithy opened the box. "There's no such thing as bad food when you're starving," he snorted, reaching for the Strawberry Gloss.  
Sky watched as he snatched those remaining onto a recently clean plate from the sink.  
"You're going to be sick!" she cried.  
"I'm an adult, my dear." Smithy twirled a Nutty Chocolatta around his finger. "I make the decisions."  
The girl cocked her neck to get a closer look at his face. "How old are you in Xylok years?"  
He spat out the bite of an Original Glazed. " _Xylok_ years?"  
"Mmhmm!" Sky took her bowl to the sink. "Rani told me dogs go by doggy years. She said her dog died when he was _ninety-nine_! And I couldn't help but wonder 'ninety-nine?' to which she then went on, 'well, he was actually thirteen, but there's ten and a half doggy years for every human year until two have gone by, and four doggy years after that. Clyde told me you're _very_ old. I didn't know whether or not you had a system which went the other way, where you're younge-"  
" _You're comparing me to a dog._ " Smithy narrowed his eyes at her, swallowing half a Glazed Raspberry whole. "I thought so much better of you. That's the _worst_."  
Sky's lower lip quivered.  
He laughed, squeezing her cheek. "I'm joking, my dear. A dog, now, there _is_ certainly a lot to be said about dogs-" 

A rather loud grumbling intervened suddenly. 

"Are you feeling alright?" Sky asked.  
Smithy's eyebrows creased, as he clasped both hands over his mouth. "Y-yes! Yes, I-" His eyes bulged alarmingly. "J-just have to do a - human thing - quite quickly!" 

With that, he headed out of the kitchen as fast as his body allowed.  
The sound of retching could soon be heard from the toilet next door.

Sky cringed, assigned herself to the washing up. "Am I glad I'm not eating," she mumbled sadly to the dishes.

0o0 

"Twenty four hours have passed since Mr Smith's discharge and the release of those papers; a week has passed since all of this started happening," Sarah Jane announced later on that morning when her and the others were met in the attic, biting the tops of her thumbs in frustration and pacing back and forth her workspace. "Yet, we still don't have any leads as to what's going on!" She halted abruptly. "Oh, actually, I forgot to mention last night, Mr Smith—" The woman began fumbling about her desk. "What can you make out of these?"  
Smithy bookmarked Matt Haig's The Humans and headed over. He furrowed his eyebrows as the woman handed him a file, fixing his glasses and beginning to read, licking a finger and flicking through the pages.  
"They're apparently from UNIT," Sarah Jane continued. "Whilst you were out galavanting yesterday _I_ was meanwhile out fetching another cartridge."  
Smithy shut his eyes, lifting the lids again only once he was sure he'd sorted through the entirety of his thoughts. "You can definitely tell this is someone - or something - trying to communicate." He folded his free arm. "I'm unfamiliar with the language, however. There are parts missing, parts added.... It doesn't follow the rules of any known conduct, either. This comes across as rather postmodern."  
"Hold on. So if you know of it-"  
"Now I know what you're about to imply there, and _I'm not saying that_." Smithy carefully slid the file back onto the desk. "But I would keep a hold of it."

To that, Rani bolted through the attic door.  
"Sorry I'm late! I was finishing a section of my portfolio." Her face was pale. "Mum's invited us over later."  
"What's the occasion?"  
"Dad's away on vacation." From the exchanged look of concern the others gave her, she realised it must have been difficult to conceal how on edge she felt. "And Clyde, your Mum's invited as well."

0o0

The decoration outside Number 12 the last few hours of the afternoon was rather concerning. The window was twinkling with fairylights, a banner strapped across the pane, another two in a cross along the door. Balloons hung from the drain.

The words haunted Rani.  
_Your dad and I met in a museum. It was raining._  
The despair which crawled onto her mother's face.  
_Bloomin' Lovely. I can get your carnations half price._  
The juxtaposing hope.  
She cringed.  
"Is something the matter, Rani?" Sarah Jane asked, snapping the girl out of her trance.  
Rani wiped the sweat from her brow. "I think our house has caught the flue," she exasperated, and realising what she'd meant, Sarah Jane actually laughed.  
"That was quite the _brick joke_ there."  
Mutual laughter.

Said previous _flue_ , never one for discreet entrances, then proceeded to, quite frankly, _sweep_ into the living room. His attire consisted of a gorgeous yellow dress, a matching floppy hat, belt of encrusted diamonds and open heels. 

The others cast their eyes with genuine surprise.  
"You wear that look better than my art teacher!" Clyde cried out - suddenly wishing for the floor to swallow him up not that long after.  
Rani shot the boy a glare, but gave the man a reassuring nod of approval before pulling Clyde over to greet her mother, who'd just entered the room.  
Swapping over from the two, Sarah Jane took this opportunity to walk over. "Why is it, that-" she began to say. The woman straightened her back. "Why is it, that, everything you do, it just, well, you could just-"  
The man turned to the sound of her voice, tilting his head forward slightly, causing his hair to tumble before his shoulders. "Could just...?" he carried on, eyes twinkling interestedly as both hands clutched at a Tropical Ribena, the tips of his golden nails rattling against the carton as his lips delicately touched the straw.  
Sarah Jane gripped at her elbows and spun away, biting her own lip. "You could certainly model for postcards," she dropped quietly.

"Everybody! Everyone!" 

Gita waved her hands in the air, yelling to gather her guests' attention. "Thank you so, _so_ much for coming over tonight! I've had such a busy week at work, I just needed to see you all. W-well!?" Laughing nervously, she scuttled past them, reaching for the docking station her iPod was lodged into. After pressing a few buttons, The Hustle began to play from the speakers. "Dance, already!" she roared through the noise, and started reenacting the choreography.  
Sarah Jane and Smithy stood close watching the others awkwardly.

"Wait!"  
It wasn't long before Gita noticed them sticking out like sore thumbs at the back of the room. "You've never done The Hustle before?" she asked, pacing forward with the music.  
Sarah Jane was about to speak, but Smithy was already prepared with her words.  
"I know of The Hustle; I've just never been to any parties where I can take part in it."  
The woman nodded severely.  
Gita's eyes might have fallen out from their sockets. "Are you two _serious_?!" She clasped her hands together. "I'm going to have to teach you both, aren't I? We can't have that, not here! A-and then you can dance together, I mean, if you'd like to, I'm sure you'll be great, Sarah! I'm sure you'll be a _natural_ , Smithy!"  
"Sarah _Jane_ ," the other woman corrected.  
"Sarah," Gita said again, and proceeded to teach the steps. 

Still robotic in her movements after a few minutes had gone by, it became quite clear Sarah Jane was unsure in the party setting.  
Smithy watched her carefully, breaking out of his pose and and joining her side. "Like this," he told her gently, and begun to move his hands towards her hips. He felt his body go stiff, and a stiff aura from the woman in front; a burning sensation stung his entire stature. He recoiled suddenly.  
"A-are you alright?" Sarah Jane asked.  
"Are y-you?" Smithy refuted the question.  
Gita looked after and laughed. "C-come here, I can help you b-"  
"W-we can do it ourselves, thank you!" the two replied in chorus, raising their hands up as if to also say 'no thank you.'  
"We'll watch your lead!" Sarah Jane added. She turned to face her partner. "S-so! You were saying... How?"  
A flurried number of thoughts entered Smithy's head at once. He felt his body begin to quiver like jelly.  
Seeing the smile dancing across her lips however, he warmed, chuckled and positioned her hips with cheeks flushed scarlet. 

"I... think I need to use the bog." Meanwhile, Clyde hastily removed himself from his seat. "'Shouldn't be too long." He cringed looking over at the adults. "Should it...?"  
Rani jumped out of her own chair in response. "Oioioioioi you can't just leave me here, that's not fai-"  
But he'd already bounded for the landing.

"R-Rani?"

She spun round. "What is it, Sky?" There was a note of concern in the younger girl's expression. She'd had almost forgotten they'd brought her along she were so quiet.  
Sky thumbled about her jacket pocket. She found her phone and unlocked it urgently. "Isn't this similar to the pattern which appears on Mr Smith's screen?"  
Rani moved the girl's hand so she could see the phone up closer. "...Kind of?" The pattern were less fluid, more geometric and widespread with pastel tints of green, blue, purple and pink.  
"And whenever I try t-" Sky continued. She tapped the home button. An array of arithmetical sequences filled the screen.

The girl waited apprehensively for a response from her older friend.

It was a fast one. "Like the printer!" Rani's eyes widened. "Could someone from U.N.I.T really be trying to contact us? But how would they get your number? Why yours?" She whipped out her own phone and compared the screens. "Mine's fine - and the whole screensaver? What's that for?"  
"I guess Xyloks are sensitive to technology," Sky suggested. "And Clyde always calls me a powerhouse. It could be that!" She eyed the dancing adults for a split second and shuffled closer to the older girl. "I don't feel very well."  
"Don't worry, neither do I."

Clyde fell back into his chair, arms behind his head and a goofy grin on his face. "So, what have I missed?" he asked a displeased Rani next to him, his question answered when he found the new sight which lay before them and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh god, they're at it alright. I thought Smithy wasn't allowed to drink?"  
"That's the worst part." Rani lowered her head to the floor. "He's completely sober."

**Everyday I hear a different story  
** **People saying that you're no good for me**  
**'Saw your lover with another and she's making a fool out of you'**

Smithy was now spinning Sarah Jane and Gita around, bringing them towards him and taking turns releasing them.

Sky watched the two worriedly and shrunk her shoulders in defeat, having another go with the mobile on her own.  
Clyde grinned. "I'm sure a glass of wine won't hurt him."  
"Don't you dare!" Rani snapped back, though it were evident she tried not to laugh in the way she spoke.

**But you know that I'll forgive you  
Just this once, twice, forever**

Gita parted from the group to get a drink, face scarlet, and as though the stars were watching them, the disco light cast upon the two dancers left.  
Smithy allowed Sarah Jane the position in charge, the woman circling him in time with the rhythm. He traced her footsteps. 

The duet were in sync.

**'Cause baby, you could drag me to hell and back  
Just as long as we're together**

Sarah Jane then begun to shimmy backwards, and the man took this as a cue to move forward, the two of carefully tapping the floor lightly in a delicate walk. Following this, she found herself a seat at the table, joining Gita, gesturing towards the water and bidding Smithy the sole limelight central room. 

He nodded, scooting forward.  
All eyes were upon him.  
He was hesitant at first, beginning to swivel slightly on his feet and get an idea of where his arms wanted to point, toes wanted to tip. It was then that he allowed the music to take him away, until—

**I don't need your freedom  
Girl, all I want right now is—**

"You're Smithy?"  
Said man abruptly stopped and spun, without intention dramatically, on his heel.

There stood a dark-skinned woman with a gentle smile and warm brown eyes. Her hair was done up in a ponytail, complete with a headband of Autumn colours which matched her dress. She turned to the others, who smiled in acknowledgement and greeting. "Where're my manners?! I was waiting on the tumble dryer. I'm sorry I'm late!" 

Following her entrance, she resumed the conversation, stepping further into the room.  
Smithy felt a tightening in his chest, as though he were shrinking, awkwardly scratching the back of his head and letting out a broken laugh of embarrassment. "W-well," he started.  
The woman's smile didn't waver. She waited patiently.  
He felt his nerves ease to her kindness. "As you could probably tell, I've never danced in my entire life; but this-" The man posed with jazz hands. " _This_ is Smithy."  
The woman smirked and held out her hand. "Carla. Clyde's Mum?"  
"I've heard plenty."

**It seems a little time is needed  
** **Decisions to be made**  
**The good advice of friends unheeded**  
**The best of plans mislaid**

"This song is so old." Clyde gave Rani a funny look. "These _people_ are so _old_."  
"Okay, but-" Rani nudged him, pointing to the alcohol on the table. "That just means there's more of that for us."

"I don't mean to, ah, blow my trumpet, but-" Smithy outstretched his hand. "Despite this being my first night out, I'm feeling pretty lucky tonight."  
"But I can't dance for toffees!" Carla cried.  
"Then thank _goodness_ you're dancing for us instead."

**Just looking for a new direction  
** **In an old familiar way**  
**The forming of a new connection**  
**To study or to play**

"Are you alright, Sparky?"  
Head buried in her knees, the younger girl shook her head. A muffled sulking could heard; she wasn't going to be looking up anytime soon.  
Clyde checked if the close was clear, snatching the Sourz from the table when he saw the adults were occupied with one another and three shot glasses. He clinged them together with a cheesy grin in a failed attempt to get the younger's attention.  
Rani bumped his shoulder angrily. "Clyde! She's TWELVE."  
"Good point." Clyde placed one of the shot glasses back onto the table and poured the liquor into the other two. "Well then, more for us." He poked Sky playfully. "Fruit Shoot on me when you're next home from school." A little too desperately holding his glass, Clyde laced the fingers of his other hand around Rani's, and in an ominously sounding mantra, chanted: "I drink, I drink to forget-"  
The expression on his face then twisted in horror.

" ** _Mr Smith grinding on all three of our mothers_**."

"W-what?!" It was right there and then that Rani lay her own eyes on what was before them for a millisecond before hastily snatching the other shot glass and knocking down her units.

**Keep feeling fascination  
** **Passion burning**  
**Love so strong**

"Y-you sure have an eye for the ladies, don't you?" Gita told Smithy, trying to whisper but her voice crescendoing with every word.  
"Y-Yes," Sarah Jane joined in. "You do quite, don't you?"  
Smithy batted his hand gently. "I'm actually _very exclusive_." He leaned forward. "Where I come from, the women are _ruthless_."  
"Where _did_ you come from?" Carla asked him.  
Smithy froze. A clever smile surfaced to his lips. "You mustn't tell anyone, my newly befriended, because it could stir up quite, _quite_ the story." He poured three glasses of Blossom Hill Rosé and offered one to each of them. "As I told you during our first meeting, Gita, most of my work was done at a computer, and I so wish I could say I went abroad - however, truth to be told, Carla, it could be said I have spent many years, working so hard, so very, _very_ hard, in The _Xylok Islands_."  
Sarah Jane tried not to snort.  
Smithy placed his hands under his chin with a cheesy grin. "But now it's time to party!"  
Carla and Gita rose their drinks into the air, cheering.  
Sarah Jane staggered over to Clyde. "Are you sure he hasn't had anything to drink?"  
"He doesn't seem to be suffering," Clyde muttered. "Not like us in the morning."  
Eavesdropping, Smithy raised an eyebrow at the two. "You haven't seen the best part yet," he told them. The man faced the ladies again. "I'll return right back! Don't miss me too much. I left something in the hall." He sashayed out and back again with a hand behind his back. "Sarah Jane! I have graced you with my presence for oh so long now. Gita - you have received a kiss on the hand. Carla-" 

Smithy brought out a carnation of orange roses. "Clyde told me you love to cook - but I do hope you have room on the window of that that kitchen of yours."

Carla cupped her hands over her mouth in surprise. "God! Bless you?" She embraced bouquet with an overjoyed squeal. "Of course I have room! Thank you! Thank you!"  
Clyde tapped Rani repeatedly, his mother's grin contagious. "Okay that's actually pretty neat," he told the girl excitedly.  
She turned round and actually clasped her hands on one of his shoulders.

0o0

Another dusk settled. They bid the Chandras farewell and began filtering out into the streets and opposite houses.

"When the moon falls from the sky or you catch a Gorgon's eye, just call Smithy..." The man sung lowly, slumping into bed and making himself comfortable.  
Before the knock at the door.  
"Hullo?"  
A much soberer Sarah Jane slipped through the gap and joined his side, waiting for him to remove his glasses. "I really enjoyed myself tonight." Unsure whether or not it was to herself or her recipient, she nevertheless nodded in assertion. "It was lovely, I think, for everyone to loosen their shells a little. Oh, _oh_ , come here." Sarah Jane gestured Smithy forward, unwinding the tubing from his ears and carefully pulling the cannula from his nose.

"You're very worried, aren't you?"

Sarah Jane hesitated. "Sorry?"  
"I can sense it," Smithy suspired a hint of concern himself. "You've done nothing but shake like a leaf throughout all of this. For - however many and whatever reasons there might be." He caressed an arm anxiously. "How long have I known you; ten years? How many restless nights and bad dreams have you ventured upstairs to see me until the crack of dawn?"  
"Ten years, _yes_ \- and far too many to count." Sarah Jane leaned closer. "Since I've known _you_ as well, don't forget, and you've talked back, which that is precisely why I'm so delighted to see you happy."  
"You are a remarkable person, Sarah Jane," Smithy told her softly. "Your dedication - the lives you've saved - I can really appreciate that now." He lifted his head. "It's astounding."  
"But I couldn't have done it without you."  
They stared into each other's eyes just for a moment, closing them, moving towards each other with necks tilted slightly, and-

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!! MY NIGHT LIGHT BROKE AGAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!!"  
"W-Well!" Sarah Jane rose suddenly from beside him. "I guess I should be saying Good night, Mr Smith!" She lifted her shoulders slightly and beamed, singing gently as she walked out backwards towards the hall, "When a Veil takes your form or the rakweed doth spawn just call Smithy..."

Smithy watched as her silhouette disappeared across the landing. With a cheek aching smile, he closed his eyes and began to sink below quilt. That was until the stinging sensation worked it's way from his chest to his throat. 

He hacked violently.  
Red liquid splattered onto the duvet.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my god! Ohhh my god—
> 
> 1\. 15 kudos?! Thank you so, so much!? Bless you?!?! This means so much to me!?!? We've only just reached a quarter of the way through I'm screaming you're all too kind
> 
> 2\. You're in for a ride now HHAHAHAHA-! There's a mixture of several more plot transitions as was detailed in canon and as thought up by yours truly heading this way so BUCKLE UP things are about to get tense
> 
> 3\. MERRY CHRISTLER HAVE A GOOD ONE

Smithy rotated his wrist carefully, watching the viscous matter as it trickled down from his palm, like the flooding compartment of a small garden ornament, to just above his elbow.

There was then a crackling followed by an excruciating pain in his left arm.

Outlining the man's hand, were an assortment of bulging and shrinking red numbers working in an attempt to equate the current circumstance. This circumstance - though temporarily understood - was since concluded to have been due rejection, as the skin started to break out into a grotesquely beautiful cluster of what looked like Clear Quartz, scarlet liquid drying along the edges.

His face twisted in horror. Another tickle entered his throat; releasing it, the man felt a burning in his chest and a dripping down his chin.  
He lifted his finger towards the sensation.  
What had caused it were the same as the fluid surfacing from his hand.

Smithy wheezed again.

And again.

  
And again.

 

And again.

The fluid continued to spit and spill from his mouth, leaving trail marks from his neck and splatters onto the quilts.

The others were asleep.  
He couldn't move.  
There was nothing he could do to stop it.

He coughed again.

And again.

  
Again.

 

Again.

 

And agai-

"Oh no you _don't_!"

Suddenly, Smithy felt a tiny sting - a thin object penetrating the scarce flesh beneath his shoulder blade.

He spat out a final mouthful of blood and spun his head quickly.

A silhouette stood shakily next to the wardrobe. It belonged to that of a rather portly man, wearing a long sleeved waistcoat and black gloves to go with his nylons and leather shoes. The mask was a dead giveaway despite the cloaking nature of the surrounding darkness; a golden plate covered his face and transparent orange plates concealed the finer details of his eyes from view. The lone facial feature you could make out through it were his lips, curled in distraught.

"You've gotta help me mate, I'm stranded!"

Smithy let out a small, surprised yelp. "A-and just who are y-" He was about to cry out in shock, before-

"MR SMITH!"

-Sarah Jane bursted through the door. "Are you o- oh God, oh god oh god-" Her face turned pale. "I'll get some tissues from the bathroom, just - _stay there_!"  
"Sa-" Smithy could feel his eyes bulging as he tried to get a better look at the intruder.  
He went to pick up his glasses. Reaching out his arm, the man realised the skin had been repaired as though nothing had happened.  
The stranger waved his hands out infront of him in a gesture that suggested he was desperate for Smithy's attention. "She can't hear me. She can't see me. Only you can!" he whispered.

"It's alright!"

Sarah Jane hurriedly re-entered the room, turning Smithy towards her as she sat him down on the bed beside her. "We've ran out, but I'm always stocked up on kitchen roll."  
Smithy watched the woman bath the blood drying against his skin. There was something about that look of concentration on her face which made his heart feel warm.  
"I, ah ... well. This... usually happens when I'm about to sneeze," he told her. The man managed a smile. "There's nothing for you to worry about."  
They gazed at each other for a short while, before Sarah Jane hugged him tightly.  
"Everything's going to be alright," she sighed. "It's all going to be fine." And she kept repeating that to herself as she walked out.

"Hey, urm-"

Smithy turned again.

The stranger swaggered towards him and pulled what was now revealed to have been a needle from his back.

"Owch!"

The intruder scratched the back of his head with a crooked smile. "That's you, you're good as new!" He outstretched his free hand. "'Name's Ozmo. Nice t' finally meetcha."  
Smithy went to shake it hesitantly - understanding too late this man had the potential to tear his arm right out of the socket.  
The former widened his eyes in both terror and sudden realisation at another matter. "Hold on, was that-"  
"Mutagen! Mutagen, yes!"  
Ozmo raised his hands in enthusiasm. "Don't worry, I've got you completely covered!"

He parted his coat to reveal pockets storing syringes coming in all shapes and sizes - not just for mutagen, but for many different chemicals, quite literally, found otherwise out of this world. "Who'd you think was behind this whole shebang? You don't mind an Early Spoiler, do you? Me; I did it. The reason you're human right now is because I've exposed you to enough Mutagen which would allow it."  
This brought to mind several questions. "Did you write out the documents as well?" Smithy then asked.  
Ozmo folded his arms and tapped the index finger of his left hand against the cufflink of his right sleeve. "Documents?"  
"Are you sending the faxes?"  
"Ahh now, hold on, matey-" The respondent started scratching his nose. "Documents? Faxes? I don't know about you, but I don't see myself as the kind of person who'd be capable of doing a job the likes of that - and I'm really not! No offence - God, this the wrong species to be saying this too - but Jack and Christ, I couldn't get on with a computer if it meant I'd be saving my life. Listen, mate." Ozmo leaned in close. "'ere, you're seeing me because you're the only one I've - somehow - managed to tune in this hologram for. I ain't got any wish to be dissected by the primitives of a level five planet, and you're the only one with the brains who can help me leave Earth!" He tapped his nose. "T'ankfully, I am a man geared towards business, and I _have_ worked with a few Xylok service users somewhere along the Krustoloss Cosmic Cluster. They haven't contacted me in Donkey's years though. However! They _did_ stock me up on decades supplies of Mutagen, an' you being a Xylok, you'll know this is a genuine batch, enough to give you the body you'd need to complete this task."

The man straightened out his waistcoat. "You can become a Xylok again after."

There was no response.

"Ey? What's eating you, Gilbert Grape?"

Smithy was about to speak, but faltered — and lowered his gaze. "I'm going to have to say, I'm awfully -  _awfully_  grateful to you!" The man then went to clasp at the passerby's shoulders, before realising he were merely represented by a hologram and pulled himself away awkwardly, though without losing his vigour. "I don't think I've felt this delighted since before recorded time! You have to understand, I'm-" He exhaled deeply. "I think people are tiring very quickly, as I point out how wonderful everything is, how I can truly appreciate my surroundings and the people; they're all made of the same things but they're all so unique! I don't think anyone understands how it feels to view things... with an autobiographical deficit. Now, however, everything has changed-!"

Smithy lifted his head slightly, a sliver of hair flying out infront of him. "Even if it is only for a short while longer, I _must_ experience more of what it's like to be human!"

Whilst it was hard to tell, Ozmo's eyes had most likely shone in excitement. "That works out fantastic for me, then! The both of us. I can certainly get you a stabiliser." Relieved, he rubbed his hands together. "But come on, humans, they're thick as two short Graskes. You're a genius!" The man narrowed his eyes. "'Course, like I said, I'm going to need you to do me this here favour before I can get you that stabiliser. If that's one thing I've learnt from working with you guys, yes - you love using your smarts. You love being sneaky. I ain't the brightest crayon in the box, I'll admit, but come on, surely, that means you gotta go _easy_ on me!" He rubbed his chin. "Y'know the National Muesuem, five miles away? 'Course you, do why am I askin', and you of all people - any way! My teleporter matter relay broke on a routine jump from Alvar to Krulka 3. There's a replacement relay, mislabelled as a Mayan artefact for some reason or another in there. Y' think you can get it? Switch off the security seal on the stone and bring it t' me, a'... Urm... Redders Way. The rotten warehouse? If you bring up a map, you'll know where I'm talking."  
Smithy frowned. "Whilst I'm not opposed to how these circumstances have panned out, I still have my reservations." He flicked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Why couldn't you just ask Sarah Jane for help?"  
"Mm'kay well, you see, I'm sure you'll un'erstand, I've been... Implicated in a bit of ducking and a-diving, wheeling and a-dealing—"

Ozmo's expression went flat. "Basically, your bird might grass me to the law."  
"I see."  
"Which also means I can't get the artefact myself. My fingerprints would attract the galactic police. Have you _seen_ them, they've got _horns_ , they've got _horns_ like _this_ -" He pointed the tips of his fingers together and placed his hands over his nose. "And they speak like this, hear, they go 'Blo! Ro Ro! Flo! So! To! Plo! Zo! Mo! Plo-!"  
Smithy would have laughed if he weren't so unsure of the stranger's intentions.

There was no time for an argument however - another crackling emerging when the man moved his hand.  
Reluctantly, he accepted the stranger's task, who clapped his hands together like a seal. "Good man! Good man."

With that, the alien flickered away.

OoO

Smithy had given himself an hour.

After changing out of his pyjamas and into the same clothes he wore to the party, the man crept downstairs, taking the keys from the kitchen table allowing him to open the door, releasing him into the night.

Artemis had struck her bow across the sky, striking the damn to set forth a navy blue sea of rippling constellations. Smithy felt the harsh wind through the frills of his dress, which caressed his ankles as he walked. The wheels of the man's tank rolled over the concrete wet from rainfall, creating a sound as though children were drawing on it instead with chalk.

It wasn't a long walk away.  
He made sure the stairs weren't making themselves present a common enemy, taking his time with them; as he reached for the security pad next to the door, the man was quick to sort through the possible combination and almost immediately decoded the lock.

Hat pulled down over his eyes, Smithy slipped through the shadows of the museum and reached for the case containing the relay. His fingers began to blur over the panel next to it, before -

"'Alright?"

He jolted.

Hard boots slammed against the floor. "My office is further on." The voice was rather deep, though with a slight femininity. "I'm guessing that's where you were heading. I can't think of another reason for why you'd be here. Closing time? _Hours_ ago. So, standard procedure!" There was the click of a gun. "I'm going to need you to put your hands in the air."

Smithy did as he was asked.

The smacking of heels again.  
He didn't turn around.

"That? They dug that up a well long time ago! Isn't it lovely?"

_This woman must really need the support in her footwear changed._

"You're trying to steal it, aren't you?"

There was the sound of machinery whirring, which caused Smithy to turn his head.

There stood a rather young woman with dark skin and hair tumbling down to her hips. She was wearing a uniform he'd seen and heard soldiers wear too many times in photographs, documents containing these and illustrations created for him through hearing the accounts of others; a black polo shirt layered with a jacket, red beret rested on her head.

Seemingly strapped to her shoulders like a rucksack was a strange contraption consisting of a monitor, two cameras and a set of three small control panels drilled onto compartments - likely containing arsenals of weaponry.

But this is only what led to the thing which caught Smithy's attention the most.

"I really hope not, otherwise, they'd be right about what they say, wouldn't they?" A glitch appeared across the woman's face. "They say if you're to trust one of us, you must have plans for suicide - it would show there's no foundations of integrity even between ourselves."

The woman was just a projection.  
He was talking to the crystal pulsing gently above her chest.


	7. Chapter 7

" _ **You're a Xylok.**_ " 

The woman cocked her head, the machine cocking it’s monitor. She leaned in as though she were leaning into another person, and in an exclamation arising from a failed whisper, told it "By George, I think he's got it!" under a hand shielding her mouth.

As Mr Smith, he’d never encountered a blue screen of death, and the man found it ironic the equivalent were blinding his thought as Smithy. He found himself staggering backwards, but the woman seemed to consider possibilities in advance and fired a containment vortex.

Startled, the man smacked his hands into the barrier. He felt his voice rise without intention, crying out: "I wasn't going t-!"

"-Try and get away?” The woman laughed, cutting him short. "Your heart rate has increased, your sympathetic nervous system is activated through an underlying release of adrenaline managed by your adrenal medulla. Fight or flight, and neither of those'd benefit either of us, so I had to be sure."

Smithy frowned. "D-did you just scan me?" he asked anxiously.

The woman dismissed the question and continued. "You most likely have a few questions; I do myself, but I doubt I'll get anything out of you unless I explain myself first." 

She positioned a hand over her chest and bent forward in greeting. "I'm Serafeim - Miss Allstar if you'd prefer to call me by me Chassis or converse formally. You don't need to worry too much about a basic introduction, I've already conducted a little analysis - _Smitty._ I'm 61 years old - that's with six zeros; actually, pardon a sudden tangent, but can you _believe_ that?" The woman rose slightly. "Those who inhabit this planet have such a needlessly complicated numerical system, don’t they? When customising my Projection, I decided to translate me age to equate to that of someone living on Earth and how I’d look as a result. Apparently, I'm the equivalent to a 25 year old, and that's a young adult!?! I'm not even going to ask, but-"

That’s when he saw it.  Smithy immediately raised a finger in an attempt to intervene, but the man would very soon learn any such trial would be proved immensely fortunate when met with success.

"What else, what else? Oh, well, my favourite colour is silver." The projection began frogmarching across the hall, the hovering crystal with the machine attached pulling the strings and following very close behind. "The flowers I find beautiful here, and they're at the top when it comes to botanic planetary exploration, are tulips."

He tried again. "Sorry-"

"Leopards are the terrestrial animals I adore the most. When I was exploring, I travelled far and wide with them. They even waited for me when I couldn't catch up, but I suppose it's why I'm able to speeeeed across land how I can now. Ahh, ohhhh ohhhhh!" The Chassis screen practically leaked neon pigments in excitement. "Summer, Summer’d have to be Earth's most wonderful season, don’t you think? I don’t think I'm ever going to get used to such an otherwise colder climat-an' oh, ohhhhhhh! I've always wanted to settle down on one of The Canary Isla-"

"Miss Allstar."

Serafeim halted.

Smithy laced his fingers together. "You're a working prisoner aren't you? See, I couldn’t help noticing."  He pointed then to the neck of the contraption’s monitor. "That’s a tracking device, isn't it?"

The colours froze in place. 

The woman sighed. "Well spotted." Her eyes cast upon the ground; the monitor lifted it’s neck and moved forward to give the illusion it were trying to follow where she was looking (when really, we know the projection was replicating what the machine wanted to do). "I'm currently working for UNIT. A geologist found me on the coast of Java. They shipped me to a retired worker from the task force, who nevertheless thought it right to forward me onto them after realising I was alien and could be used to help them out."

She collapsed her arms to her side. "You could say it’s slave labour, it’s against my own will. But I’m sure you understand, when you're given a purpose and an opportunity rolls in to tackle it head on, you have to cease the moment.

Mine, as you could conclude independent of my self disclosure, is using my skills in combat to fill the role of a bodyguard. I'm looking after this museum from extraterrestrial threats as a result. Therefore, if you're trying to steal that Mayan artefact, I'm afraid you've got another thing coming."

Serafeim shut her eyes, the machine creating a low, sad tone. "I haven't spoken to another Xylok in 127 years nearly. I hadn't spoken to another  _ person _ for 123. It was so lonely. Which is why I've gotten so used to talking to my own Chassis.  God, you must think me terrible - worse than those men who murder women in popular media and sit their bodies around the table for tea! 

A woman called in a few days ago though, saying she was looking after a Xylok using mutagen. I tried everything to get in contact with you. I'm dreadfully sorry if I ended up being a nuisance. I played about with files, tampered with phones and printers within your proximity-"

Smithy’s eyes widened. "So it was you?"

"Of course it was me!" Serafeim stood firmly with her arms collapsed beside her and fists clenched. "But  you  didn't  _ respond!" _

"Well, Miss Allstar, you must learn traditional linguistic means of communication. You see, I’m a lot older than I look, and it where the equivalent of reading my dear friend’s daughter’s mock exams." Smithy exhaled. "Anyway, this isn’t a Mayan artefact you’re looking after. It's a relay, and I have to take it. You have access to more than substantial mutagen; how could you use a Projection and Chassis at the same time otherwise?"  He twirled a strand of his hair. "I’m promised more mutagen being in possession of the relay. You must understand how much this means to me."

"Alright, you got me." Serafeim twitched. "That’s a fake. A placeholder. We found the original  and someone swiped it from under the noses of those working in security before me; quick joke, how many humans does it take to guard a mask? _Insufficient data._ " 

Smithy stiffed a laugh.

"Don’t leak this to the press though, I swear to God. I won’t just be fired, they’ll interrogate me after they find out we’ve had a chat.

" Serafeim shuddered. "I don’t want to know what kind of malware they have."

Smithy scratched his chin. "My Chassis could produce replicas," he told her. "Surely you're able to do this and search for or the co-ordinates as to where the real artefact lies? There’s something in it for both of us in this situation. I have Mutagen, and you're dubbed a hero by your branch for recovering lost property." 

Serafeim didn’t look so sure. "Miss Allstar’s  mapping would unfortunately only go as far as if we were establishing the Circle Theory for an offender; I would’ve tried tracking the sodding thing if I could ages ago otherwise. I've never been asked to recreate anything besides documents, and that was during a meeting when the photocopiers stopped working."

"If you're able to scan and photocopy, replication shouldn't be a stretch."

"I-would embrace you if I could, bless you." 

Smithy raised an eyebrow. "How are you even here?"

The projection started playing with the buttons on her coat. "They asked me  to embark on an excursion to Earth. Those with their immobile Chassis stations love sending us on wild goose chases don't th - oh, sorry, I didn’t mean you. I’m guessing you were using your ship resources until you got here, or your portable died in a wreckage when landing. These things happen all the time. I should know. _We_ crashed. It’s so easy for them to say, The Emperor and those little contraptions running around in their flimsy robes calling themselves butlers and maids, ‘this mission is going to go just right! It’s destined! After all, this isn’t just any old trip-

**_“We’ve found Goldilocks sleeping in a blanket of suns-’”_ **

they said together.

Smithy felt his skin crawl. "We were on the same mission, weren’t we?"

"Apparently so." Serafeim averted her eyes. " You’ll know then the ship crashed. It’s hard to shake something like that off despite it being, what, sixty millions years ago? _He_ was watching me, it seems. You know, that geezer humans say resides in the clouds. If you've been above the surface, I'm sure you're familiar with what I'm about to tell you. Ten years ago, there was a disturbance in Earth's tectonic plates. You could say there was - a Supermoon - but no. No, there was genuinely movement of the moon; it started closing in on the Earth, and-"

 

**Pulse**

 

Smithy's blood ran cold. 

"I-" 

"What's the matter?"

A shiver rattled down the man’s spine. "There’s something about what you said."

"Sorry, I'm not really-"

"It doesn't matter."

"Smitty-"

Smithy sighed. "My memory storage was corrupted a few years back. To this day, I'm still not sure how or why. According to Sarah Jane, it was her doing. She said I needed rewiring."

"Rewiring?" Serafeim bit her lip. "How could you need rewiring? You're innately directed towards a specific purpose. You can’t deviate from that-"

"Oh no, it wouldn't be anything to do with deviating from Purpose," Smithy went on. "She said I forgot my Purpose, and that it was to protect Earth." His gaze shifted to the left, and his thumbs were rubbing the fabric of his dress. "I trust her. But there's something very important here I'm missing."

"That's quite a feat. Of course, it isn't impossible." Serafeim positioned her beret. "Computer viruses are still a vulnerability. What model Chassis  do you have anyway ?"

Smithy puffed out a cheek. "Again, I couldn't tell you - but that’s not because I've forgotten; no, there's nothing to forget there." He started laughing awkwardly. "We made it from her chimney."

"Wait, y-" Serafeim blew a raspberry. "-Model 2? Improvised Domesticated Structure?" 

Smithy sighed. "Don't laugh-"

"You've got to be kidding me. No wonder you've got yourself a virus, that's HILARIOUS!" The woman slapped her thigh. "Wait wait wait wait wait  please don't tell me you have a DVD player and a compass."

The man felt his temperature rise in embarrassment. "I have DVD player and a compass."

"WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING_?!"

"Just remember who has third dimensional printing and advanced geographical profiling." Smithy tried to compose himself quickly. "Fret not, however, as I've said I will teach you these things."

Serafeim shut down the containment vortex, and unable at this present time to manage a Chassis himself, Smithy taught her through observation and empirical judgement on her own practice. It took a few hours, although it were worth it; as soon as the woman had got the knack, there was no stopping her.

"Now I can be assured I'm not working against myself," she muttered. 

Smithy guided her away from distraction. "Tell me, again, the exact co-ordinates where the genuine object lies."

Serafeim, hesitation evident in her voice, named a set of numbers; however, to her surprise, the same code was displayed on the monitor.

"Very good."

The woman sighed in relief. "Alright. As we said-"

There was then a dial-up sound, the buttons on the Chassis body, following a sequence, glowed one by one. 

The casing fell from the display, leaving the relay exposed.

It illuminated green.

"There! If  for whatever reason you need someone's help again, I’m around." A smile glitched across Serafeim’s face. "For now though, do us a favour and knock yourself out with that-"

“Thank you.” Ignoring the playful double meaning in her closing comment, Smithy nodded appreciatively and gathered the relay into his arms as though it were a newborn infant. “ _Thank you_.”

 

**Derelict Warehouse, Redder's Way. 01:35AM.**

 

Smithy found Ozmo wrapping himself around when he arrived. 

"This planet's so cold," the alien tried to muster through chattering teeth. “I-it's... _ enough to freeze your monoids off! _ ”

The previous snorted. "You're in England. Go to the Indonesian islands, you'll come to know at least one Xylok who’s melted into sentient molten glass."

"I know, I know, but I've found myself in hotter climates here. That'd still be, like, moving things from the freezer into the fridge." Ozmo jogged up and down on the spot. 

Smithy was unsure as to whether or not the man intended to come across so animated. "Now-" He felt a sudden jolt in his fingers; the hand was crackling to crystal already. "The stabiliser shot."

"Ah! Ahh yes, I'm an 'Ozmoid of my Word!" 

Keeping to his side of the deal, Ozmo whipped out a small, red device from his blazer pocket. There was a nozzle at one end, which Smithy applied to the shards breaking through before anything worsened. 

Slowly, they reverted to flesh.

"Time for me to love you and leave you, I guess. If I go now, I'll be able to catch the last day of the Krulka carnival." Ozmo waved frantically. "Look forward to the rest of your human life!"

Smithy left as the alien faded away, and found himself crumbling to the floor in reprieve. Deciding to walk there and back had been a great overestimate of his stamina. The man started to fear the worst: would he have to sleep outside? Strangers would find him. They might think him homeless, throw water over him, or recognise his condition and feel pity; he wouldn't be able to decide then whether or not they took him to the hospital. This, of course, wouldn’t have been worse than being unable to get back to Bannerman Road and settle into his quilts for the morning if he slept outside here. The others would notice very quickly he wasn't around and go searching for him. 

 

_ What could I say, that I sleep walk?   _ Smithy gnawed his nails nervously.  _ No, that could never do for Sarah Jane Smith.  _

 

The man wrestled with his thoughts, flickering back to Serafeim.  _ Why did I never use a Projection?  _ His eyes flittered to a crisp packet taken by the breeze.  _ Perhaps if I used a Projection and presented myself as human in addition and off the bat, the others might have accepted this better. Me, as a matter of fact.  _

 

There was a sudden bright light, and the man lifted his head.

 

A vehicle had pulled up beside him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Who am I? _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! WAU here - just a little something to say my confidence writing is very, very low seeing as this is my first attempt at a project in quite some time, meaning I'm very thankful to those who've kept with me. I pray this doesn't appear desperate, but please don't be shy to drop me a review (even just one word) if you liked anything or even just click to kudo! Any support means absolute masses to me and I think about it for a long time.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was fun and interesting to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did working on it!

As a writer, you'll find pathetic fallacy a pleasurable literary device to integrate into your work.

So I'm going to let you in on the secrets of Dawn, stretching her rosy fingers across the sky; how she decorated the flowers, with dew sequins symbolic of tears from the previous night's distressing uncertainties, now blossoming forth to the Sun's rays, for there is an opportunity today, a means of tying loose ends first thought to unlace one's mind. 

The man returned from his walk to be greeted by the horrified looks of those waiting for him inside.

"Y-you — you went outside with your pyjamas as on?!" Sarah Jane cried out.  
Our cloudcuckoolander shifted the glasses further up his nose, obliviously stepping past her with his hands behind his back and dragging a tank attached to a handle with him, skipping a little towards the window. "Heard about the roseate dawn, wanted to see how roseate it actually is," he mused softly, sliding his finger across the pane, eyes glistening with wonder and a slightly open smile, before letting out a breathless sigh. "And let me tell you, it's pretty darn roseate out here." Smithy realised his teeth weren't jagged anymore. 

The Mutagen had gotten stronger.

"You and Sky, you aren't far off each other in terms of experience," Sarah Jane piped up. "Perhaps you should spend some time together."  
The man titled his neck away from the window, moving towards the fridge for some milk, the cupboard for two bowls and the wall unit for cornflakes. He'd learned his lesson from the day before. "I _get_ you!" He exclaimed, turning to the girl sat across the room eating a Nutella sandwich. " _Carpe diem_ ; look that up!"

Sarah Jane placed the second bowl on the table and poured him a glass of orange juice.  
The man faced her. "My dear, you wouldn't mind assisting me with the measuring stick, would you?"   
The woman laughed. "You can take your own height!"  
"I know I can." Smithy lowered his head. "I just don't want to."  
Sarah Jane gave him a concerned look. "Why not?" she asked.  
"It's a personal thing."   
He took her wrists into his hands suddenly. 

They locked gazes.   
" _Adds it's own little touch._ "

The woman's face went red. "So, I, ah–" Sarah Jane hesitated, flustered. "And what are your plans for the _diem_?"  
Smithy shrugged. "Nothing particularly spectacular." The man placed a finger beneath his chin. "Although, I am very interested in exploring more of the country - and we won't have to _walk_ anymore!"  
Sarah Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"  
"You'll see what I mean; I shall dine and dress first, but!" He clasped his hands together in delight.

"I have a car."

0o0

Rolling in from behind the wall, a polished, forest green 1925 Bentley 3 Litre.

Sarah Jane's eyes widened. " _Where did you_ -"

_Lifting himself from where he was sat, Smithy went to investigate._

_There was no one sitting in the front seat._

_Apprehensively, the man drew closer, noticing a note stuck to the dashboard.  
He was thankful the vehicle had an open roof, taking it._

_"Hey, Smitty!  
Thought you might find this useful so got it out the back for you. From an old exhibition about the Early 1900's, see - I tweaked the engine, but it should work anyway with a bit of Xylok magic. In the dashboard there's a driver's license. Have fun!_

_— Serafeim"_

_Below were doodles drawn with a crash - which whilst they weren't, could have been thought illustrated by a very young child. On one side, there was a stick figure in a yellow hat and dress with auburn hair, over-exaggerative glasses and an oxygen tank, and another with dark hair, wearing that of a UNIT Private; the other side had two geometric shapes which could only be made out as crystals._

Smithy smiled. "A friend," he replied, and leaned on the wheel. "How does it look? I think it goes particularly well with my chosen attire today. You're a Taurus as well aren't you, Sarah Jane? Green is the lucky colour of the Taurus. I find that a wonderful coincidence - and you can be assured everywhere I turn, I won't be able to escape from you today." The man gestured towards the back seat. "Are you wanting to come along? I would have you in the front, but I have to store this tank somewhere close by."

-Then in the corner of his eye, he spotted Carla and Clyde taking out the waste.

Smithy called over to them. "Hullo there!" He waved his arm which wasn't not rested on the wheel. "I'm taking Her out for a test run. It would be wonderful love to be in such good company!"

Carla dropped the last bag into the container and walked over slowly, jaw dropping at the ride.

"Yes! Yes, _hello_ , my fellow Cinderella!" Smithy flicked back his hair. "Would you care to join me and enjoy a sunny day in the countryside?"  
The woman glanced back at her son. "C-Clyde, you're alright clearing out the shed, aren't you?"  
Clyde looked over for a few seconds. He frowned - then nodded, otherwise without giving a response.  
"Buckle up then, my dear!" Smithy heard the door behind him open and close. "I hate to say it, but this is only the second time I've driven a car like this."  
Carla's pupils shrank. "WH-"  
"Bye bye, Buttons!" Smithy bellowed to Sarah Jane and Clyde, flicking his wrist in both directions.

"There will be Travel-"  
The man fixed the key into the ignition.  
"There will be Scene-"  
He turned it, and the engine groaned into action.  
"W-w-well! I can't think if any other time I'll get to sit in the back of a Bentley. I guess there's no turning back-"

"EXCITEMENT—!"  
The car shrieked, jumping back and forth between the white lines of the lane as Smithy hastily clasped at the steering wheel.

"-NNOW?!" Carla shrieked.

Clyde found himself stumbling after them. "If you kill my Mum, Smithy, I swear t-"

But the two of them were slightly faster than he could keep up with, laughing and screaming.

0o0

"My Mum's going out with a screensaver."

Sky looked up from the Sarah Jane's computer. The young girl was streaming the news channel in one tab, trawling through emails in another. "Sorry?" She kept an ear out and continued scrolling. "I've just been keeping up with any incoming data. We're getting _so many_ messages! But they're making sense this time. Here's one from a sender going by a sequence of numbers, and the subject is ' _Hey now! It's your Allstar, get your game on, g_ -"  
"Probably spam. Listen, Sky, my Mum -" He hesitated. "My Mum's caught the flue."  
Sky frowned. "What does catching the flu have anything to do w-OHHH _flue_." The girl's face fell in shock. "Oh no."  
"Oh yes. He took her out on a drive."  
"I-it could have just been a friendly, a-ah, _breaking the ice_ , I think it's called? Luke told me just because a man and a man or a woman and a woman are together, we shouldn't assume they're just friends, and if a man and a woman are going out, it doesn't mean they're _going out_ -"

The attic door thwacked open. In entered Rani, who smacked a pile of broadsheets onto the table.

The two descended the step and eyed the title of the one first catching their eye.

_Museum Theft Baffles Cops._

"What's going on at the moment?" The older girl asked exasperatedly, though to no avail. "Usually we're the ones on top of everything. I know how everyone else must feel now. There's so much happening and it's all so ... _weird_ ; it makes me uncomfortable."  
Clyde gathered the paper together. "The London Museum is being investigated following the removal and replacement of a Mayan artefact," he read. "The recent object contained is rumoured to be the true one, however, police are unsure and nevertheless want to look into the case further to find out where the missing item i-"

"We interrupt this program with an important broadcast."

Sky gasped and ascended the step again. She stretched out the minimised window on Sarah Jane's computer as the video loaded, Clyde and Rani following suit standing beside her.

"Another victim has been found dead in her Hounslow apartment.

These current murders are part of a truly horrific case - the decapitated bodies of women ranging from their early twenties to late fifties, presumably having worn necklaces before the time of death, are being found across the country. As a result, ladies both young and old are urged to lock their doors and windows nearing the late afternoon, particularly if they're living on their own.

As a result of the victims meeting their maker in such a terrifying way, the killer has been nicknamed The Necklace Ripper. There are still no leads on just who this culprit could be. Joanna Lys, BBC News.

If you think you can contribute any information to assist the police search, please call-"

Rani gradually muted the television. "You know," she mumbled, almost inaudible. "I'm starting to realise how difficult our job is protecting the Earth without Mr Smith. More than ever."  
Sky thumbed her fingers. "I feel really ill," she mumbled, head down.  
"But listen," The older girl placed a hand on the younger one's shoulder. "Humans, we're better than we think. Some of us, at least. We've got moral values, and we've got each other. We'll make it through like we always do."  
"Perhaps," Clyde chimed in. "That creep on the news is also the burglar. Then detectives only have one job-"

"We need a _stairlift_ installed, Sarah Jane!"

The attic door bolted open suddenly and both girls screamed, the topic of conversation still playing on their minds.  
"You may think me as younger than I am, but my lungs are only getting older," Smithy bellowed. He faced the kids, only to be met with an awkward silence.  
"She's got a visitor," Rani whispered harshly.  
"I know! I offered him a spot of tea." The man slammed the door. "Splendid man." He flashed Clyde a grin. "Remarkable work on the shed. Your mother's delighted."

Quiet.  
"Is something wrong?"

Clyde stepped forward. "What is this?" He asked. "What are you doi-trying to do?"  
Smithy squeezed his wrists anxiously. "W-well, I simply wanted to cheer your charming mother up," he told the younger man.

No response.

He started picking at his face. "Whenever you came up to see me, on your own, you would always tell me about your mother, how much you cared about her and wanted her to be happier. How much you worried about her. There's so much she's endured and all those things your father did to her; she deserves more from life, and I felt so unhelpful being confined to the attic. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to help you both out."

Apprehensive, Sky and Rani exchanged glances.

This disclosure of information, understandably, made Clyde angry. "Wow! Thanks for sharing that with everyone! It's not like I didn't want it spouted about or anything." He hesitated - and laughed, bitterly, feeling the girls watching. "Sarcasm, by the way. You think just because you've spent like a week being human you get it. We're just data to interpret and get processed or whatever.

It's nothing unusual to you, just a new way to analyse points. Expand your knowledge. You think you can have a go at changing the outcome of something when it doesn't fit the... _Paradigm_? That's what it's called. Yeah. 'Heard Luke talk about it the other day - don't worry, I'm still stupid. You don't have to change that in your expectations.

But you don't know understand it's like. You could never understand what it's like. What am I trying to say? I prefer spending time thinking before I speak, sorry."

Clyde turned away from Smithy, growing annoyed at having to try and maintain eye contact with him, the way he towered over with a titled head in what the young man found, and many in that situation would find, insensitive curiousity.

 

"It was just a private conversation with a _machine_."

  
The room went completely dead.

 

In that moment, a lump entered Smithy's throat. His chest tightened and an unpleasant thumping caught upon his left rib, body aching with anxiety.

"I-" The man shut his eyes tightly, pressing the viscous liquid which caused a blur in the side of his vision to subside into the sockets instead of fall to his cheeks. "Of course. Of course; I'm sorry, Clyde."

That's when a familiar sound crept into his right ear. The man let out a small yelp, opening and directing his eyes towards the corner of the room slightly.

Ozmo was rattling his fingers on Sarah Jane's desk.


	9. Chapter 9

_She can't hear me. She can't see me. Only you can!_

Overcoming his initial shock, confusion and irritation, the man recollected this information surrounding the traveller's apparitions and realised something needed to be done about him appearing mid-conversation.

"Psst! I know you're caught up in something. But just - give me a one word answer."

Well that would do it.

"My carbon refractor's overloaded," Ozmo went on to explain. "I need some... Diamond thing from a bank vault I've got the co-ordinates for, but I can't find the person who's got the key to cracking the security system. Y'think you could do that?"

That's what Rani began speaking as well. "H-hey, Smithy. Humans go by... a certain social etiquette. There's no way I'd ever want to patronise you, I know you've got the knowledge stored up there in that awesome head of yours, but it seems like we need to put some time into applying it to real life. It might even be good for when you're back to normal, too." The last part was an aside, obviously. "But you didn't mean anything bad when you let the cat slip out of the bag about Clyde, did you?"

Smithy felt himself starting to sweat. "No," he replied, making sure the first speaker caught his glare.

The double meaning response was a success.

The alien turned away slowly, a stern expression washing onto his face. "You'll change your mind when I tell you the stabiliser I gave you was an unreliable strand, I'm sure," he told the man in a sharp tone which made him question whether it were one of concern or demand. "That's right, Twinkle Toes. You'll be a Xylok again by tomorrow afternoon. Or worse, knowing the nature of Mutagen - dead."

The girl so happened to face the opposite way to Ozmo, and it felt truly as if Smithy were existing in parallels. "This is beyond unexpected, and we've all got a lot going through our heads, all of our heads, without other things springing up! But that's more the reason to stick together and use this as an opportunity to learn a thing or two from each other."

Smithy's brow started to sweat. "R-right." The conversation before caused him to freeze up quite considerably.

Ozmo cracked his knuckles and cackled. "W-well, I'm sure you've got your ways!" Then, to the man's relief, actually disappeared sooner than he thought.

"Come on." Rani smiled. "Make up."  
Still stubborn in retaining his own views, nevertheless tolerant of others, Clyde came forward and outstretched his right hand. Smithy was prepared to take out his left hand from his cardigan pocket when circumstances couldn't have opposed him more.

He clenched his now crackling fist and shut his eyes tightly in frustration. The man quickly resulted to patting Clyde on the back using the unaffected hand instead, and in a panicked rush, without dropping a single hint of where he was headed, fled the house.

0o0

 _Her office is out back_ , Smithy remembered.

He found it, deciphered the code needed to enter and stepped through the door.

"Miss Allstar."

Rather than the woman who greeted him the first time, a rather small Chassis was sat on a nearby coffee table with the crystal rested next to it. He realised this machine had been the one she carried; the body just converted itself into a control panel and keyboard.

"Back already?" A familiar voice arose from the speakers. "You missed me _that_ much?"  
Smithy waited for the automatic door to close behind him. "All too much," he replied.  
Miss Allstar made a grinding sound. "Clearly not! You haven't even said Hello," the Xylok retorted, then with a flattening beep.  
The man sighed. " _Hello_ , Serafeim."

The machine clonked, and a bright light followed.

The woman Smithy met the night before stood by the machine. "How can I help?"  
A response to the point would be best. "I need The Diamond," Smithy told her, though not quite understanding what he was trying to say himself. "Do you have the key to the bank vault?"  
Serafeim tapped her foot. "There are more than a few diamonds you could be referring to," she pointed out. "But I'm guessing you're thinking of The Facet Diamond? You _must_ be thinking of The Facet Diamond. That's a rather important Diamond and it's not too far from here." The woman rested her elbow into the palm of her other hand. "Are you needing it for a carbon refractor or something?"  
"Spot on. At least, I know the second part is." Smithy raised his eyebrows. "Just by referring to it as _The_ Diamond instead of _A_ Diamond, you seemed to know exactly what I was taking about."  
Serafeim laughed. "Have you been kept locked up in an attic or something?" she quipped.  
"Urm... Yes?" The man grew more concerned for his confidentiality.  
The woman's expression returned to solemnity again. "You need The Facet Diamond. Well." She started roaming aimlessly. " _Well_."  
"Well?" Smithy echoed.

Serafeim then halted abruptly in her tracks and spun around.  
"Well, I don't have the key."

Smithy felt a weigh on his chest. "You don't have the key." He sounded suddenly defeated.  
"I don't have the key," she said again. "Do you suffer from anterograde amnesia too?"  
Ignoring her snark, the man tried not to give up any last remnants of hope he had. "Then where is it?" he asked.  
Serafeim frowned without reply.  
"Where is it?" The man continued to press.  
The woman narrowed her eyes. "I can't tell you."  
Smithy stood unsure.  
Serafeim folded her arms. "The person who has it, th–no, actually? I don't think that's my business to tell you."  
"Can you at least tell me where they are?" The man tried desperately.  
She twirled a lock. "How am I supposed to trust you? I mean

**You  
** Can't  
Trust  
A Xylok 

I can understand artefacts that have simple enough passwords you can crack, but, without disclosing too much, we're more dealing with a far more difficult matter here."  
Smithy placed a hand over his own forehead, but out of another migraine.  
"What's that?" Serafeim asked.  
"A rather bad headache."  
The woman rolled her eyes. "Alright - _fine_. But if I find out you've made them give over the key unwillingly, I'll snap those gallivanting sticks of yours in half." She withdrew into a sudden stream of bright light, reverting back into crystalline form.

Her chassis sprung back to life. The screens streamed blue numbers as tabs started popping up all over the place, and eye straining, neon buttons lit up the control pad.  
There were three windows open on a map, the zoom application further into the target as you went along. A slightly smaller one suddenly emerged from the far right, depicting a profile.

**Surname: Johnson  
** First name: Jack  
Nationality: American  
Height: 5'9  
Weight: 153lbs  
Blood Type: O+  
Date of Birth: [REDACTED]  
Species: Human  
Current Location: Cogspring's Watches and Jewellers, Jekyll's Street, Ealing, London, Essex, C0J MO24 

Attached to the data was the image of a man, wearing a dirty blouse, goggles on a head of scruffy mousse coloured hair and an awkward smile which didn't go well with his severely creased eyebrows.

"Human?" Smithy found himself saying out loud.  
"Human," Serafeim confirmed. "With an unfortunate medical history. Use reasonable force and don't try anything sneaky. There's really no need." She closed the tabs, the blue numbers faded out and her screen returned to displaying it's usual vibrant pattern. "You've got a car now, too. That makes things a lot easier, doesn't it?"

0o0

Arriving home, Smithy was greeted through the door by the concerned cries of Sarah Jane and rapid fire of questions from Sky; however, this were a rather short encounter.

The man resolved to simply avoid them, migrate to the bedroom, lock the door and drown out any knock. He folded his legs, lacing his arms around them, face buried into his knees. After a while, he rose his head with the flick of a strand of hair and lifted his now red raw left hand into his line of vision to see the damage done so far - and fell asleep.

  
....

 

 

  
Falling.

 

 

 

 

  
   F a l l i n g 

 

 

 

Smi thy fo und hims elf susp end ed ab o ve the dee pest bed of the At la nt ic Oc ean 

 

 

  
. . . H o w ?

 

His oxygen tank had been upgraded to that of a scuba-diver. Under the sea, under the line of ambiguity, you could suppose now everyone was an equal. He felt his hair move with the soft current. This could have been an actual sequence of events, were it not that he'd no protection for this eyes and kept his heavy dress moving fine nevertheless.

That's when he saw a thick, metallic object lashed out from behind a rock.  
It moved for him.

**How ... INTERESTING.**

**What a  
** SURPRISING  
turn of events.  

**...  
** .....  
........ 

**  
Now, I may be incapable of seeing into the future, but were we to analyse an assortment of multi universal possibilities, a very high probability exists determining the two of us should meet soon.**

There was a ringing. 

**Will there be people before me?  
** I sense a few unaffiliated.  
Yes. Yes, a few have already greeted you into their arms. 

The wires threw him violently towards towards a different terrain—

**Let's  
** See   
How   
This   
Goes  
Shall we? 

T  
O  
W  
A  
R  
D  
S

A  
N

E  
N  
T  
R  
A  
N  
C  
E

I N T O T H E 

  
Dark

 

  
DARK

 

  
D A R K 

 

  
— Smithy woke with a start.

  
**Right where I need you to be. Ha!**

 

******HA!**

**Haha!**

**  
HAHAHAHAHAHA-**

**See what I did there?**

**This is HILARIOUS!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love foreshadowing I love parallels and I love being wicked to my OCs and ultimately my favourite characters //does a dance
> 
> All I'll say is Cogspring has more a reason to be here than just for the sake of Original Character inclusion. In fact, any OC I've written into this is meant to meant to allude to Mr Smith's backstory or later occurrences in their own way. I should have mentioned this earlier when I just slotted Serafeim in like "HELLO sudden Original Character" but I'll do that ... now.
> 
> I'm a writer, who said I had common sense.

"You didn't answer us yesterday."

Sarah Jane finished tying the knot of Smithy's dress.  
It was short and navy blue, with lace covering the man's skin where straps might have otherwise been. "I wanted some time alone," he told her.  
His hair was done up in a clip. The woman started curling the two strands tumbling infront of his face. "You made a racket again last night," she added.  
"I had a nightmare," came the reply.  
Sarah Jane hesitated and smiled. "Don't you think it's amazing you can dream?" she asked him.  
"We thought Luke couldn't dream."  
"Oh, of course, but this is _different_ -"

Smithy felt something rise from within him he hadn't before. It wasn't embarrassment, nor was it anxiety or sorrow. This felt intense. It made him want to lift the table and haul it into the window just to hear the glass smash. "I was a fool to think you realised, unlike the others."

As a human, they had yet to see him angry until then.

"I forgot no matter how much I disputed it even before this discourse, you all thought I was just a hunk of junk. Do you think I dream of electric sheep? A trick question there, because _I'm not just a computer._ " The man removed her arms from his shoulders. "I have somewhere to be."

He stormed out the door with a sharp flick of the dress and slamming of heels against the wooden floor as he snatched his keys from the counter, coat from the hanger and brolly from the bucket.

0o0

_Driving does something to the mind._

_There's something soothing about concentrating on where you're required to be as you take in the world around you. Getting from A to B is like an excitatory neurone jumping from the pre synaptic nerve ending to the post synaptic nerve ending._

A portable radio sat on the dashboard. At the red traffic light, Smithy leaned over and switched between channels. He heard a whining trumpet harmonious with an electronic percussion track and turned up the volume.

_Their music can be just as good as ours._

Oblivious to the annoyance of other drivers, Smithy found himself moving about in his seat to the song.

**Warmed by your light one more time  
** Just a jump and come to you The rich have money  
The bees make honey Love is never pure  
Please can you be mine one more time?  
Not once in a blue moon  
The rich have money, the bees make honey  
Love is uncertain so 

The light changed to green, so he drove forward.

**How the wolf sings, howls at midnight  
** He's trying to call out her name  
But his love is still too far away 

The man found himself in a 30 mile lane a little further on and slowed the car accordingly. I think I'm improving, he thought to himself.

This confidence flew through the roof however when someone in a white van started driving closer to the boot and decided to overtake.

"DID YOUR MOTHER NEVER TEACH YOU TO READ?!" Smithy yelled, and whilst yet to utter what they considered a curse, there was something invigorating about showing off your middle finger to someone from a driver's seat.

**How the wolf sings at the stroke of midnight  
** He will be waiting till doomsday  
But his love is still too far away. 

He realised the lyrics unsettled him, though he couldn't pinpoint why. Thankfully, the  
man arrived at his destination and removed himself from the car.

A small sign:

_Cogspring's Watches and Jewellers_

"Tag! You're it!"

Almost hitting him, there passed a girl with plaited ginger hair and freckles.

"Hey, that's not fair! I was _tying_ my _shoelaces_ -"

A younger boy tried running after her, with far less stamina, black hair, green eyes and less height and weight on him.  
There sounded a bicycle bell nearby and a boy much older than the first sped out from an alleyway.  
The smaller boy saw his chance. He tapped the eldest on the arm. "It!"  
This older boy swivelled slightly, though able to regain his posture before an accident. "Watch it!" he snapped. Any aggravation was fast to vanish however when he realised who it was that thought it funny to prod him. "Who tagged you? Was it Guinevere?"  
This younger boy's face grew serious. "She's too _fast_ , Thomas!" he cried. "She always manages to tag me, an-"  
"Ahh..." Thomas pushed on the pedals one by one, gradually picking up speed. "Gui-ne-vere! Come he-re! I - am - going - to - kick - your - rear!"  
The younger boy started laughing.

Smithy smiled, turning towards the cottage. It was painted magnolia with a thatched roof and stain glasses windows. Sitting in the front garden, were identical girls making daisy chains.

He headed for the door and rapped on the knocker.

After a very short wait, a tiny woman with curly brown hair answered. "Hel-lo there!" she greeted him. The ginger girl known as Guinevere and the older boy referred to as Thomas barged past. "Forgive me-" She cocked her head towards the interior. "And just where are your manners?!"  
"Sorry, Mum!" they both cried out in unison as they disappeared into the living room.

Following the woman's gaze, Smithy managed to sneak a peek in. They had plaques, sayings, printed on the wood using a font wanting which could easily be mistaken for handwritten work, which read along the lines of _May your troubles be less, blessings be more, nothing but happiness arrive to your door_ and _Family Rules: Say please and thank you, forgive, laugh, listen and don't forget to say you love one another._ There was an ornament rested above the fireplace - a box with the words _Our family's love is tied together by a string_ engraved on the lid; indeed, by a string was how there hung eight hearts with different names engraved in the wood. Someone was working on a beautiful cross stitch, saying _God bless this house_. Professional photographs of the woman and her children were mounted on the walls and mantelpiece - in many of them, the man Smithy needed to see stood beside her.

Positioned next to the dining room window were two faded photographs of Jack Johnson and a very young boy he hadn't seen yet. In the first, their foreheads were pressed together, eyes closed with creases and big grins on their faces. In the second, the woman was holding one of the young boy's hands as he flashed an overjoyed grin at the camera. The man was kissing his cheek.

The woman turned back. "What can I help you with?"  
Smithy returned her gaze before she could see him poking his head around. "I'm here to speak to Jack Johnson?"  
"That'd be my husband."  
As if on cue, making his way into view came a man of average build with brunette hair and watering hazel eyes. From the outset, his demeanour were abnormally timid; his entire frame shook violently as he rung his hands so hard you could see the red from quite a distance.

"H-hey, that's me!"  
Smithy quickly picked up on the man's Tennessee accent, as well as how startlingly deep his voice was.  
The American tried a smile. "B-but you can call me Cogspring. T-the entrance to the shop is round the back. D-don't worry! Easy mistake." He laughed nervously, stepping out after Smithy made room for him and led the way. "We should sign post better, h-hahaha-!"

During this walk over not too long a space of time, Cogspring managed to squeeze in plenty of small talk about the weather, how well his business was doing and the holiday to France his family were going on in a couple of weeks, making jokes about his clumsiness as he fumbled for the keys when they fell onto the concrete as the two reached the entrance. The man grabbed for them a few times before finally catching them back into his hands and struggling with the lock until Smithy helped him.

The former led the latter in and stopped ringing his hands, instead clasping them together. ”W-what can I do for you?”

Smithy sized Cogspring up and down. He thought back to the woman who met him first, the children running around, their living room and the conversation exchanged from the front door to the back. Had Serafeim tricked him? This couldn't be the right person. Jack Johnson was a textbook case of the average human run down a little by first world issues.

Right?

But he might as well have tried the man. "I'm here for the Diamond."  
Cogspring froze.   
"Is everything alright?"  
He jolted suddenly, a smile then quivering back into view. "O-oh, _diamond_ ," he repeated, nodding slowly and ringing his hands again. "I can get you a diamond." The man moved behind his desk, unlocking the door and hauling out a shelf used to display a selection of earrings, watches and pendants.  
”No, _The Facet Diamond_ ,” Smithy pressed, lifting a hand to let him know his actions weren't needed. ”It's very important to me. I have to know where you're keeping it.”  
Cogspring's left eye started twitching. ”What are you talking abou-"  
"Since this is the first time we've met, I'm unfamiliar with your knowledge concerning the Jewel. However, I understand now just by judging your mannerisms why my friend was apprehensive giving me your whereabouts. This is clearly something whi-"  
His eyebrows creased suddenly and dramatically, his mouth forming an ugly 'O' shape.

"Y-YOU'RE ONE OF THEM! YOU'RE ONE OF THEM, AREN'T YOU?! YYYYOU. YOU MUST BE; YYOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU—” 

Before Smithy could register the movement, Cogspring whipped out a bible from his left pocket and a pistol from his right, crossing both arms over each other as he levelled the latter for him.

"Y-you're going to put your hands in the air, R-RIGHT NOW."

Knowing full well this could end badly, Smithy complied.  
”GGOOD." Cogspring cackled anxiously. ”I don't care if you're the LAST surviving member of your kind! T-that would be EVEN better! I'm going to put an END to you, an end to all this, RRIGHT HERE, TWINKLE TOES—”  
"Hold on." Smithy stiffed a laugh. ” _Twinkle Toes_?”  
Cogspring wheezed.   
He narrowed his eyes. "...You've meant Ozmo, haven't you?” 

The man slid the bible back into his pocket and reached for the door handle. ”I-I can lock this,” he asserted, ensuring the gun didn't waver from his target. ”You're going nowhere near my wife or children. T-this is a personal matter.”  
Smithy sighed. "Listen, _I'm not after your wife or your children._ I'm not even after _you_.” He softened. “I'm after The Facet Diamond. That's all." He watched Cogspring's quivering lips and eyes, which were brimming with tears. ”What _happened_ to you?”  
”What d-do you mean, w-w-what's hhhappened to me?” was the man's reply.  
”Alright, let me rephrase that.” 

Smithy hesitated.  
" _Where is your Chassis_?"

Cogspring's pupils were dilated before the discussion took a turn, perhaps from medication, but this question caused them to shrink. ”I don't have one,” he answered quietly. ”I d-don't need one. W-what are you talking about?"  
”Well, that just backfired, didn't it?" Smithy cracked his knuckles. "There's only one way you could have understood what I was asking you. How do you know about us? We've been rather adept at avoiding radar. If it weren't for myself or Serafeim, we would practically have remained invisible. Are you a member of or perhaps know a member of UNIT?” He played with a strand of his hair. "Or are you exactly who - or what - I would say you are?”

Cogspring exhaled. He dropped his gun, and without warning, the tears slipped from his eyelids and he began to cry.

”You're human. I'm not going to deny you that. Of course you are,” Smithy continued. “I'm not here to remind you of a past I can see is clearly upsetting you, though this unfortunate trail of events has - urm - allowed it to resurface again.” He reshuffled his dress. ”You were once a Xylok, and you happened to make the deal with Ozmo to become human. You completed the contract, so you're human permanentl-"

Cogspring dried his eyes. When he spoke, he managed not to falter. "I was enlisted for the Excursion to Earth of which the ship crashed many millennia ago and found by an American explorer uncovering secrets belonging to the land of Sumatra during the early 1800's. He didn't tell his crew about me; I was kept a secret and passed down as an heirloom. The family managed not to lose me even when they migrated from Nashville to Ealing. They must've found me that intriguing to look at. I never tried to communicate with them until I realised how - despite them not knowing it on more than a few occasions - wonderful their lives were as humans, how overwhelming I felt my life had been as a Xylok and how deeply I fell in love with the woman now my wife.

Ozmo said if I could find and look after the Facet Diamond whilst he was travelling and allow him access to it when he needed, he would give me enough Mutagen shots to take on a human shift permanently. Mutagen was so much easier for those in trade to get a hold of back then wherever one was in the universe because mechanical advances were happening everywhere, and those who still supported using Mutagen hastily released it for supply in large doses. Anyway, I did as he asked, and now I'm human. Forever. Gretchen, her name is - Gretchen and I got married. We eventually had a son.

A-ah... Lex. Seven years old and bullied relentlessly at school for taking part in a ballet class. Eventually he was woken up night after night by terrifying nightmares." Cogspring's eyes watered again. "They were about drowning. Gretchen would go to change his quilts and there were wet patches. I told him to carry on swimming, but he said... _they_ kept dragging him down. I tried to ask who 'they' were but he just shook his head."

What Cogspring said next made Smithy's blood run cold.

"Lex said someone had been talking to him. One morning, he wouldn't come downstairs for breakfast. We thought he was just refusing to get up for school and went upstairs to fetch him." Cogspring was trembling very much now. "He was dead."  
"I'm very sorry."  
"They said it was a suicide. B-but I don't think Lex took his life. I think he was murdered." More tears fell from the man's eyes. "I-I think son died b-because, w-w-well, I'm c-certain it was because he never meant to exist in the first place — y-you could never understand how that feels."  
"What about your other children?" Smithy asked softly.  
"T-they aren't b-biologically mine," he sniffled. "I w-was still on Mutagenic Injections. W-we couldn't have children 'naturally' then, so she had two donors, one which created twins; t-the other two are adopted..."  
Smithy remembered the underestimated time and effort it took to forge both Luke and Sky's papers. "You really went lengths."  
"W-we did." Cogspring timid smile rekindled then like a dimly lit candle in the dark. "I'm guessing you've been sent by Ozmo to find The Facet Diamond for him because he wants it for something and you want humanity like I did. I can understand that. J-just... Take heed of my warning. Don't do anything you couldn't have done before. It will hurt you and those you love." The man wiped the sweat from his brow. "This identification code you want to get into the safe. It's specific to me. Only I can use it." 

He started fumbling his fingers.  
"I'll have to go with you."

**"Who rides there so late through the night dark and drear?  
** The father it is, with his infant so dear;  
He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm,  
He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm. 

**"My son, wherefore seek'st thou thy face thus to hide?"  
** "Look, father, [GLITCH] is close by our side!  
Dost see not [GLITCH] with [STATIC]?"  
"My son, 'tis the mist rising over the plain." 

**"Oh, come, thou dear infant! oh come thou with me!  
** For many a game I will play there with thee;  
On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold,  
My mother shall grace thee with garments of [STATIC]." 

**"My father, my father, and dost thou not hear  
** The words that [GLITCH] now breathes in mine ear?"  
"Be calm, dearest child, 'tis thy fancy deceives;  
'Tis the sad wind that sighs through the withering leaves." 

**"Wilt go, then, dear infant, wilt go with me there?  
** My daughters shall tend thee with sisterly care;  
My daughters by night their glad festival keep,  
They'll dance thee, and rock thee, and sing thee to sleep." 

**"My father, my father, and dost thou not see,  
** How [GLITCH], his daughters has brought here for me?"  
"My darling, my darling, I see it aright,  
'Tis the aged grey willows deceiving thy sight." 

**"I love thee, I'm charm'd by thy beauty, dear boy!  
** And if thou'rt unwilling, then force I'll employ."  
"My father, my father, he seizes me fast,  
For sorely [GLITCH] has hurt me at last." 

**The father now gallops, with terror half wild,  
** He grasps in his arms the poor shuddering child;  
He reaches his courtyard with toil and with dread- 

**The child in his arms finds he...**

 

**...Motionless**

 

**...Dead!"**

**That! Was Der Erlkonig, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.**

**It gets me every time.**

**...**

**I cannot help but laugh.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who started reading this story before this chapter was published, Cogsworth's name has been changed to Cogspring. I saw Beauty and The Beast the other day I KNEW it sounded familiar but that's happened just a heads up I didn't want to just make the change and have people read and go UUuUUuuUuuuuh-
> 
> Anyway! That's right! Smithy and Cogspring get the Diamond, Smithy turns human and everyone lives happily ever after yes yes y-
> 
> -yes, April Fool's. It doesn't go well at all.

The journey thankfully weren't as awkward as Smithy thought it would be. Cogspring remained uneasy, and the driver decided it would be inappropriate to initiate a conversation after startling the man out of his family life, but the passenger gradually relaxed their muscles over the course of the ride.

Arriving at their destination in under half an hour, the two former Xyloks bundled out of the car. As soon as their feet touched the ground, they realised someone they both knew was waiting for them outside.

"JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! LAD, HOW ARE YOU?"

Cogspring tried a smile as Ozmo strided over and slapped him on the back.  
The alien stepped aside, making a camera window with his fingers and focusing it on the two men stood next to each other. "Looka that." He flashed them a cheesy grin. "You look like a duo straight out of a sketchshow. 'You ever seen Armstrong and Miller?"   
Smithy and Cogspring exchanged the same uncertain glance.  
"A-ah-" The latter shrunk into his waistcoat out of embarrassment at knowing how to respond to the man's remark and raised a finger. "T-the seventeenth security door. That's where I keep the Facet Diamond. W-when I was still on Injections, I devised the panel next to the safe. If you're going to insert the code, you'll need to enter the combination exactly as I tell you, o-otherwise you won't get it open."

With that, our three musketeers headed through the Maximum Security Area. Smithy was walking calmly, twirling his brolly, whilst Ozmo thought it convenient to lag on behind Cogspring, who was scuttling beside the first of the trio with his arms in his pockets and eyebrows folded anxiously.

"M-Much of my life has been revealed to you," the American spoke, breaking the silence. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but w-what exactly is it driving you to do this?" He hesitated. "You haven't even told me your name."  
"Oh, pardon!" Smithy rested the brolly on his shoulder. "I'm going by Smithy; my circumstances are similar to how yours were. Human life intrigues me. It used to in a pitiful way, but I'm starting to understand there's plenty more to humans than anyone who hasn't lived with them could know." The man suddenly felt flustered. "T-there's also a woman I feel very strongly for," he added quickly, almost as if he wished for others to know of this important component to his emotions and at the same time didn't. "She's very brave, intelligent and kind, with an adopted a son and a daughter both exceedingly bright. I wish to strengthen my rapport with them, as well as their friends, but I feel this would only be possible if I were more like them."  
"Have you asked her out on a date?" Cogspring asked after such a disclosure of the fancied woman.

Smithy realised he'd taken the floor for granted and bored his eyes into it. "She didn't take me up on my offer to drive through the countryside. Besides, I would rather there be many opportunities following than just the one. P-perhaps more romantic."  
"And with that, you fell into my trap!" Cogspring slapped his thigh. "I didn't even need to interrogate you too hard; I've discovered this man, like myself, feels very deeply for a human woman."

The other man froze.

"Oooooh," Ozmo caught up and barged in between them. "Jack, you're adding salt to a wound there."  
The man shot Cogspring a glare, to which he convulsed with a feeble squeak.   
"Oh! Actually, _actually_ ," The salesman pulled Cogspring aside. "The woman's last name is Smith. I don't know who chose it, but his Chassis is called _Mr Smith._ "  
The two giggled.  
Smithy jerked. "L-listen-!"  
"Awh come on, Jewelian! It'll be canon soon!" Ozmo let out a roaring laugh. "I mean, that's if you're not siding with that Carla woman."  
"Carla's a friend."  
"Yes, yes!" Cogspring shook the right shoulder of the teased man. "Because Sarah Jane is your-"  
"Ok - I've been polite - now _can it._ " Smithy cut off this tittering with a nudge to the upper arm. "I confess I wish to go on a date, my Chassis has her last name and the second woman I think is remarkable I've called a friend." The man lightly prodded Ozmo with the plastic end of his brolly. "Which one is your pointless answer?"  
"That's scary." The alien gulped. "Don't do that again."

It wasn't long before they approached the seventeenth security door.

Smithy motioned to the panel next it. "The code, Cogspring."  
The other man raised a finger to his chin in thought. "I think... If I can recall..."  
"Please don't tell me you've forgotten the code."  
"I-I haven't! I haven't, I p-promise! I'm j-just, j-just trying t-t—"   
Ozmo watched Smithy, then Cogspring, and understood very quickly they wouldn't be progressing for quite some time if he didn't do something. So the alien lunged forward with a syringe and pierced it into the visible flesh of the second man's neck.   
This caused Cogspring to create a low, broken 'H-huh-h!', at which Smithy was ready to steady his patience and try to get the man to work through his thoughts-

-until he saw his eyes roll to the back of his head and veins climb his face.   
"CharlieAlphaBravoOscarPapaThreeOneTwoOneFiveOneSixSix-"

  
Smithy's fingers raced for and created a blur across the panel as he tried not to allow himself to get distracted by such a sight whilst Cogspring streamed the numbers at a ridiculous speed for human speech.

It took two minutes until at long last, the American spat out the last of the sequence-  
 "Sierra."  
and the door opened.

"We had a good run... didn't we?"

Smithy and Ozmo turned to the sudden change in his voice.  
Cogspring was foaming at the mouth.

"W-we had a good run! We did, we did!"  
He started convulsing, wrapping himself around and shrieking with laughter.

Smithy threw Omzo daggers. "What have you done?"

The alien watched Cogspring struggle, twirling the empty syringe between his fingers. After he'd seen enough, he turned to Smithy and told him: "No sweat," before prodding it back into the other man's neck, removing the liquid inserted earlier-

-and smacking him across the back of the head.

"Ah, ahhhhhhhh-!"

Cogspring's eyes drooped so they were back to normal. His face was flushed; a warm, genuine smile then touched his face and his eyebrows weren't creased anymore. 

"Do you want something to eat?   
Are you hungry?  
You must be exhausted."

The man found himself on his knees. "I've got an apple crumble waiting in the oven for you. Don't tell the others, alright? I know what you're like. I mean it, this is for you. You deserve at least something." His eyes began streaming with tears, which fell from his face like the dewdrops of a leaf. 

"I ... l-love you...s-so much, son..."

And he fell forward unconscious.

"What was that?" Smithy snapped.  
Ozmo slid the syringe back into his trouser pocket. "Y'know, when you start to crystallise again, it leaves a residue on the floor," he explained. "That's Reverse Transcriptasia. I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I've been following you around a little and bottling it up for my business. It's like Mutagen. 'Works hand in hand with the stuff; the name gives away it's function. An' we needed that function in order to get Jack to do his job. Come _on_ , Smithy, you should _know_ this!"

The man hesitated - however, when it hit him what Ozmo did, he ground his teeth and scolded him. "That was incredibly cruel. I don't know how on Earth you could you do such a thing without the burden of a conscience. There really wouldn't have been much harm in helping Cogspring and waiting for him."  
"Good thing I'm confident not being from Earth so their moral laws don't get to me then, isn't it?" The alien laughed, tugging at the man's ear. "If he can to live knowing the consequences of being human every day, I'm sure being a Xylok for a bit isn't too much of a crisis, anyway - moving on though, look at the bright side; you're all set!" He parted from Smithy's side excitedly and began pulling at Cogspring's legs. "Don't worry, I'll return him straight to his wife. It'd be good to see Gretchen, actually. 'Good to get a cuppa tea offa her."

Smithy turned back to the door of the safe. He exhaled with a heavy sigh and stepped inside. Despite the safe being dimly lit, dark and damp, and even those with a weaker sense of smell and lesser hearing could be made aware of the rusted metal and water dripping from the pipes, you could tell it was listed legitimately under the American's name, as pendants yet to be moved to the stock of his business were kept in cubby holes with heavy doors and photos of his children were kept in an open box; however, at the same time, you could also tell the man tried his best to keep some of his belongings secret. Slotted beneath the wood of a chest of drawers, Smithy found a letter addressed to Cogspring written by Gretchen, and though he didn't intend to pry into their private business, his eyes skimmed across the fact the woman was in another country and wrote of his Chassis.  
  
All of a sudden, a bright silver light started shedding through one of the drawers. The man returned the letter and opened it, to find the Diamond there resting on red fabric.

"You're right. I am remarkable."

Smithy snatched it up and spun quickly, shutting the drawer with his heel.

"Sarah Jane."

The woman had a smug expression on her face.  
She entered the vault and pointed to the specially programmed digital watch around her wrist. It displayed a map with an indicator, which Sarah Jane tapped. The screen zoom into the location the indicator were pinned to.

Smithy felt something vibrating behind his lower back. He reached for the sensation to stumble upon what could only have been a hard box secreted into the knot of his dress. The man untied the knot, removed it and haphazardly tried to tie the ribbon again with one hand, taking a closer look at the item.

It was a bugging device.

"Why?" Smithy could hardly ask, his voice trailing off.  
Sarah Jane placed her arm back to her side. "I was going to direct the same question towards you," she cast back almost immediately. "You've gone up and down the Bourough, you've made two weird looking friends who I don't trust one bit - but oh goodness, you're stealing from a safe."

Smithy was conscious of someone watching him from outside the room.

He remembered the urgency of the situation and treaded gingerly towards her. "I will explain everything," he told her anxiously. "I will, very soon. I promise. Please-"  
Sarah Jane was unsure, and steadied her hands towards him to push him away lightly.

However, the man man misinterpreted this as a much bigger threat, and before he knew it, he'd snatched the sonic lipstick from her pocket, shoved it into the material of the dress covering his chest and pushed her hands together.

Surges of blue agent crackled around her wrists.

"W-what was th-?!" Sarah Jane cried out, staggering back. She gasped then, before losing her balance completely and falling to the floor.

Smithy lifted his hands in horror to be met with copious amounts of the matter. "No, no, oh nononononono," he exasperated, swiftly moving for the woman and scooping her into one of his arms. The man watched Sarah Jane's expression carefully. "I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" It were wonderful being able to look at her, but not like this. Her lips trembled and her eyes wavered; she was so shocked she couldn't speak.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

With another lack of impulse, Smithy hurried the woman over to the vault as quickly as his stamina allowed and slammed the door shut.

The lock mechanism clicked.

He studied the diamond, which he'd kept buried in his palm whilst escorting her.

_A few hours._

The man clenched his fist.

_In a few hours, this is all going to be over._

A sudden feeling of dread crept up Smithy's spine. His heart started palpitating, sweat dripping from his forehead and his own lips quivering now. The man felt sick, light-headed. He stretched his arms out to steady himself.

_Wait, hold on, are these mine?!_

That's when the room turned upside-down.

"Mr Smith!"

Sarah Jane gathered herself together. She started hammering at the door. 

"It-it's alright, I can help you!"

Smithy's legs buckled; he fell to the floor clutching his dress and tears flooded from from eyes. What's happening to me?! The man thought, this panic worsening the disadvantage of struggling to breathe already. His chest felt tight, as though he were being strangled.

He found himself gently rocking back and forth.

_This isn't real. This can't be real, logically. How could any of this happen?! This isn't real, none of this is real-_

"In and out. In and out. In and out, that's it, in and out. In, ou-" 

Thats when the world split into two. 

The man involuntarily threw himself backwards and blacked out.

 

......

  
..........

  
 ...............

 

**"A violet in the meadow stood, with humble brow, demure and good, it was the sweetest violet. There came along a shepherdess with youthful step and happiness, who sang, who sang along the way this song.**

**Oh! thought the violet, how I pine for nature's beauty to be mine, if only for a moment. For then my love might notice me and on her bosom fasten me, I wish, I wish if but a moment long.**

**But, cruel fate! The maiden came, without a glance or care for him, she trampled down the violet. He sank and died, but happily: and so I die then let me die for her, for her, beneath her darling feet."**

**... That was Das Veilchen. It was written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Have you heard of it? It is to be accompanied by a work composed by Mozart to be played on piano.**

**Anyway. When they have no Chassis, how do you think a Xylok defends itself?**

**A tiny, fragile gathering of shards could easily get shattered. Mutagen has been around for a very long time however, unlike Chassises, meaning there should be no surprise when one refers to it for help - whether that be a conscious or subconscious desire. Think of this as though you go to touch a plant only to find it has small thorns, rather than as though you would go to touch a plant grown on private property and a have an old man shout "Off, off!"**

**The point I am try to make here, is, that I would not knock too hard, Sarah Jane Smith. You might be better off in here - with what I have in store for this miserable planet!**

.....

 

..........

 

.................

 

A considerable amount of time passed.

Smithy's eyes opened gradually, as though he'd forgotten he was human and required to do this in order to see. When his vision focused, he found himself gazing up at the ceiling.

_What... happened?_

The man remembered his hands and arms. He used them to help him sit up, before recalling he had legs as well, and rose with care to stand.

Sarah Jane was facing the wall.

Smithy used this opportunity to scamper back up onto his feet without being noticed, at least before it was too late, and headed for exit.

He lurked through the shadows outside the warehouse and cried out for Ozmo more times than he could register over the throbbing sound and pain of Mutagen from his fingertips.

"Hello, mate!"  
Smithy jumped.  
The alien appeared behind him.  
"No mate of yours," The man snapped. "You didn't happen to witness the events of the last hour, did you? If you did, you could have done more than just sit back, or perhaps I am far too socialised by humans. I would like to think thought that elsewhere in the galaxy they have common decency."  
Ozmo picked his ear. "Let's see: blue matter blasted from your nails and you locked your bird away. Then you got yourself into a right little tiz-woz and crawled out of the dark wearing my name out."  
He received a glare.  
"Cogspring was different," The alien told Smithy, about to try and justify his actions. "'Thought I should intervene there so you could get to the vault faster. Having too much dopamine going whack about your piloting meat after you got the Diamond ain't my problem. Get it medicated."  
"In my case it's a lack of serotonin, actually."  
"Ooohohoo, sor-ry! Whilst as a man of business I wouldn't say I'm the next Steve Jobs, I'm certainly not the next Wilhelm Wundt."

The alien started rummaging through his pockets. "Look'ere, hows about a fair exchange for you going that extra mile and carrying on even though you weren't feeling your best. I'll hand over the shot first, you give me the Diamond after. They say you can't trust a Xylok, but they said nothing about a Krulka."  
Ozmo handed over another syringe.  
Smithy revealed the Facet Diamond from the fabric in return and applied the Mutagen shot, before moving for the safe again. "I can't release Sarah Jane-" he remembered, worriedly.  
"Actually," The salesman pressed into his train of thought. "Even if you were able to - couldya leave it a couple hours? Just...while I power up the indices I need to leave." He kicked a pebble about. "Sarah Jane'll forgive and forget. You've helped her save this planet so many times!"  
Smithy had to resist the urge shove him. "I was part of a team. But you're right. Absolutely right." The man twitched. "All I've done is rescue a wayward traveller - and coincidentally secured a reward for myself - yes, of course she'll understand."

To that, Ozmo stood there for a few seconds thinking of something to create a rally of sarcasm between them, curled his lips out of annoyance at not being able to come up with a good comeback and stormed off with the Facet Diamond.

Smithy sat in the car, burying his face in his hands. _What should I do, oh, what should I do?_ He thought in distraught. _There's nothing I can do! At least, not for now. Cogspring is in no fit state to return. Is there anything I can do in the meanwhile?_ The man started massaging his temples. _How could I do anything in the meanwhile, when the one I find most remarkable is sealed away and our trust is starting to tatter? What do people do when they're so overwhelmed they can't face doing anything?_

The man's eyes widened in realisation.

_I need to talk to someone._

He shut the door and started the engine.

_Carla._

Sarah Jane paced the vault with her useless mobile. She started waving it around desperately, and had to continually restrain herself from reaching into pocket where her handy device would have been.

"No signal, no sonic, nobody can hear me - oh Mr Smith, what are you doing?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what - you've just reached the halfway point!!
> 
> I really hope people enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Since we've reached the half way milestone, it would mean masses to me if you left a kudo or bookmark if you haven't already, perhaps feedback on what you liked!
> 
> For now though, I'm going to return to convincing my friends we have a pet monkey today.


	12. Chapter 12

The late afternoon was turning the hands of the clock. Businesses had reversed their signs and birds were calling their families to the nest for tea and rest as Astraeus swept away a few brilliant blues from the sky to make room for picturesque pinks and purples of Dusk. Give or take the occasional waft of a Chinese takeaway, one's nose would only have caught the cold, crisp breeze. There weren't many shoppers around.

Smithy found a red telephone box next the Post Office. The man pulled over, stepped out from the car with his tank and headed for it. He slotted in a coin after closing the stiff door, dialled a number and twirled the line around his finger whilst waiting for an answer.

Carla's voice soon crackled through the speaker. "... Hello?"  
Smithy sighed in relief. "You're going to think me more bizarre than you might have done already when I tell you I don't have a mobile," he replied.  
"Smithy?" The woman giggled. "How are you calling me?"  
"I found a payphone," the man told her. He bit his lip. "Are you available to meet with me as soon as you can? I really need someone to talk to and you're a breath of fresh air. Though I completely understand if you're not; this is rather short notice."  
There was the sound of a door opening. "You think after a day of cleaning, if a charming gentleman called to ask for some time I'd say no?" The door closed. "Where are you thinking, somewhere like Costa down town?"  
Smithy took a moment out to think. "Perhaps the restaurant I believe opened yesterday on the high street," he decided.  
Carla gasped. "Dinner as well? It's not my birthday!" she exclaimed, and the man could hear scurrying across a wooden floor.  
"But I owe you a massive thank you for being the wonderful friend you are!" He laughed. "Well then Carla my dear, life is for living and dinner's for eating. Don't let either of them go cold! See you at eight!"

Smithy lodged the phone back onto the receiver and caught his reflection in the window; there'd been another change aside from the repair of skin and teeth reformation, his eyes now watering down the wheels of colour into a deep hazel.

**He's got no strings**  
**To hold him down**  
**To make him fret, or make him frown,**  
**He had strings,**  
**But now he's free,**  
**There's no strings on him!**

"Straight to voicemail again."  
Two hours had passed since Sky started trying to call Sarah Jane from the attic.  
"Did she say where she was going?" Rani asked, sorting out the computer, it's screen having been flooded with tabs of cryptic - though in dramatic irony, nonsense - emails from a certain someone. The word 'meme' popped up a few times to the bewilderment of everyone.  
The younger girl bit her lip harshly and shook her head.  
"That's unusual." Rani turned to Clyde, who was texting from both their phones as she busied herself with her own task. "Any luck?"  
"She's hasn't replied to either of us," he told her, impatience edging into his tone. The boy snapped the flip-phones shut. "What's the bets this has everything to do with someone who's name sounds like Sniffy-"  
"-I really wouldn't be surprised," Rani took the baton.  
But Clyde snatched it back before she could run with it. "How do you feel about earlier now? Not as naive a human being as you thought he was, is he?"  
"Clyde, what happened earlier probably has nothing to do with what's happening now."  
"You always feel the need to take on the role of reconciliator, don't you?" The boy flared his nostrils. "Probably doesn't, probably! You don't know for sure though, do you?! I think it's quite obvious it does, if you ask me. I couldn't even trust him not to spill the beans about things I wanted to be kept secret!"  
"Oh, about that!" Rani rose from the desk. "I bet all my money you've had a right good rant about me too if it meant so much to you. You know what? When we find him, I'll go up and ask him 'Mr Smith, play back all the times Clyde's told you I'm a passive little-"

" _Please! Please stop fighting!_ "

The two hesitated.  
Clyde felt ill.

Sky was shaking in the corner, irritated in both the sense of being nervous and annoyed. "I'm scared," she asserted. "We don't know if it's Smithy's fault, and even if it is, right now, I don't care! I just want to know Sarah Jane's ok. I just want to find Sarah Jane. Our _priority_ _is finding Sarah Jane_. S-Sarah Jane's in her late fifties, after all."

The girl's gaze following the cracks in the floorboards, worry outlining her features.

"What if she's with the Necklace Ripper?"

**Miss Smith is quite the entertaining woman, is she not?**

Someone was sat on a tartan blanket, watching the footage they'd managed to get ahold of with keen eyes. There lay the shambling, almost unrecognisable corpse of a woman next to them; realising they'd been neglecting her, our observer felt for her fingers.

**I hate to say it, but I think you might be past your sell by date.**

They gradually let go of woman's hand.  
When they stood, sharp fangs formed a grimace on their face.

0o0

"Does this thing have a..."  
Sarah Jane used her wristwatch to scan the steel door.  
"Nope! No timelock! This couldn't get any worse!"

Realising then there was nothing more she could be do, the woman tried to calm down and resorted to looking around. _I swear I've seen this man in town a few times,_ our curious journalist thought, picking up the framed memories of Cogspring and his family. _Those children sometimes walk beside him, or that woman there - most of the time he's on his own, though; his head is down, back hunched over. He takes large, quick steps - with his hands in his pockets._

 _I think he has his own business not far from here. But how do him and Mr Smith know each other?_ Sarah Jane folded her arms and smiled smugly. _Looks like I'm going to need to pay this Jack Johnson a visit as soon as I'm out of here._

It was at that moment she spotted the letter poking out of a drawer, and winning an argument with her conscience, carefully pinched it from between the wood, starting to read.

0o0

"You said you needed to talk to someone." Carla finished the last slice of garlic bread. "What's going on?"  
Smithy wiped his chin with a serviette. "W-well - like I said on the phone; you're a breath of fresh air, my dear. I haven't had a friend like you before. It can feel, I guess, a little too close to home talking to the others right now."  
"'It must be hard to transition from the life you had before."  
The man nodded. "That must be it." He laced his fingers together and placed his elbows on his lap, remembering it wasn't socially acceptable to make use of the table for them to rest on.

The waiter soon gathered together their starter plates and the friends said thank you.

"Eh-attendez vous s'il vous plait!" Smithy raised his hand before he left. "Une bouteille de champagne, Monsieur. Le Cristal!" He laughed, and turned to Carla who was trying not to laugh out of confusion and amusement at his enthusiasm. "Private joke."  
"Surely you can't drink!" The woman shook her head and tutted. "Don't think I'm going to let you, either."  
"I know I can't drink, and I won't be." Smithy poked her playfully. "I bought it for you."  
She raised her eyebrows in shock. "F-for me? All I could expect from my _husband_ was a battered sausage and cans of Tizer!" Carla prodded his shoulder to get back at him. "Then again, even if you could, I wouldn't let you drink until you had more to eat. What are you thinking for your main?"  
"I'm still working it out."  
She frowned. "Working it ou-"  
"Ah."

Smithy froze. "Since my discharge, I was assigned a meal plan to stick to. I'm still adjusting to having freedom and've grown far too concerned and particular for my own good." He slipped the menu back onto the stand. "I'm sorry."  
Carla didn't know quite what to say, nevertheless wanted to ensure he felt comfortable having trusted this matter with her. "Y-you don't need to be sorry," she told him, and assured he saw that same smile she gave him when they first met at Gita's party.  
"It's something I seek to overcome. You see-" The man leaned forward. Though what he were about to tell her might be assumed normal, he still felt it an invasion on his privacy for those sitting by him to have a listen. "Just lately, I've started to see life in a very different way. All those years, I was working, facts and figures, data..."  
The woman's eyes widened. "You did IT? Like, working with computers?" she asked, fascinated.  
"Something like that. But now I can see..." Smithy's eyes then shone brighter than the light of the chandelier above them. "I neglected all the important things...Fun, friendship, spending time with someone special-"  
"Sarah Jane _is_ very special. That woman's great for Luke and Sky, she's so clever, assertive, great at her job and gorgeous for her age; I wish I was like her."

Carla's smile vanished. She started picking at the floral art on her nails and finding patterns in the floor. "I'm nobody special."  
Smithy felt something tug at his heart. "Don't you go say that!" He tapped the woman on the nose. "Clyde _certainly_ thinks you are. He thinks the world of you."  
"How do you kn-" The woman's cheeks flushed. "He'd never say that, would he?"  
Smithy snapped open a menu again. "You'd be surprised."

Their waiter was heading for the table again to take orders.

The man actually managed to choose a dish.

"And who could blame him?"

0o0

Back home, the attic was in a frenzy. Sky had brusquely taken charge, finally getting her older friends to work together.  
"Rani!" she cried urgently. "Check the newspapers! There's got to be a story somewhere!"  
Clyde brought in the portable television he was told to carry over from the bedroom by the younger girl and placed it infront of the Chassis.  
Sky watched the two apprehensively, before heading downstairs to fetch the kitchen radio.  
"She's the new one and she's taken over!" the boy whispered to Rani, twirling the remote between his fingers.  
The older girl was gathering PDFs on her phone. "Why are you confiding in m-wait, is it the orange and pink?" She didn't look him in the eye, instead screenshotting a few pages which could be useful. "I mean, I guess those are the colours on Mr Smith's scre-"  
"We need to do Mr Smith's job the hard way!"  
Sky returned hurriedly, which meant Clyde couldn't fire a comeback and the chance for another argument to commence was very unlikely, slamming the radio onto the ledge of the broken window.

"Reading newspapers, watching TV, finding stories online; I'll go through every station if I have to, and Smithy said we can use his Chassis like a normal computer. We'll find Sarah Jane however long it takes!"

0o0

"I heard you couldn't open this door if t-well, never mind; about time!" Sarah Jane strode out from the vault. "I was going to ask you to drop me off at the Jeweller's down the road, but there was something very important I hadn't been made aware of until now, and your help would be very, very appreciated." The woman folded her arms. "I need a phone charger, a direct line to UNIT High command, a copy of your CCTV footage, and a cup of tea wouldn't go amiss," she declared.

The first guard took her phone.  
The second cuffed her.

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes.  
"Or we could do it the hard way."

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't too many changes, but I'm reuploading chapter because I felt it didn't read right and might've... deleted the first version by accident whyamilikethis. If you've already caught up with what's going on, you can skip this if you'd like!

A terrine confit of free range chicken.

Ham hock.

Savoy cabbage with sauce gribiche.

The friends were getting full. 

"Little tip for you Carla!" The man moved his empty plate to one side. "Stop eating before you get physically sick. So much more enjoyable - and you can save enough calories for very satisfying dessert." He pulled at a strand of hair. "I heard they make donuts here to order, to _order_ -"

The woman laughed, taking a sip of her champagne. "Well, a little tip for _you_." She touched his hand; hers were almost as warm as that homely smile, and Smithy realised then just how much of a good friend he'd made. "I can understand it must be really, really difficult. But please - try to come to terms with how lovely and daft you are - you're great with the kids, Sarah Jane loves you, you've shone a whole new light on my life in last few weeks I've known you, which Paul could never do in all the years I was with him - and you really don't need dither over numbers-"

" **Monsieur Smith!** "

Parting the heart to heart, a rather tall member of staff raced for their table. He wore a smarter uniform than the waiters, his long locks of dark hair even tied up in a ponytail. The man's irises were a gorgeous fusion of greens and blues and a purple bruise below his left eye stood out against his pasty complexion.

" **Il ya un appel téléphonique pour vous. C'est très urgente.** "

Smithy's pupils shrunk. "Y-You're going to have to excuse me, my dear," he started, his voice trailing off as he rose gradually from the chair. "I'm dreadfully sorry, I-I-I have no clue what this cou-" Suddenly realising Carla was rather observant however, he panicked at the thought of her gaze watching his panicked demeanour.

The man grabbed for the handle of his tank and headed for the corridor outside the kitchen as fast as he could.

Suspicious, he picked up the wall phone when he arrived.

Of course.

The hologram of Ozmo appeared beside him.

Anger flickered into his eyes like a roaring flame. "What the _hell_ do you want now?!" Smithy asked furiously. His nails were leaving marks in his fist as he clenched it.  
" _Hell_?!" Ozmo roared. "'You in Year Five or something? That's not a swear word. Try saying something a little more powerful, like f-"  
"-For goodness sake, _I have someone waiting for me out there_!" The man told him through gritted teeth, pointing towards the gap in the door.  
Ozmo barged past him to take a look through it. "Carla?" He smiled so wide you could see an overlapping gum. " _That's_ Carla?"  
"Yes!"  
"You've realised you like her instead of Sarah Jane, then? Oh, I _am_ sorry to break up your romantic little evening." The alien pouted in the direction of the unknowing woman. "But don't you worry, love - this really is the last job for good old Smithy-!"  
"-No! _No_!" The man wanted to shake Ozmo's, aggravated he couldn't. "This is a meal between two friends! But I've already treated those dear to me poorly as it is!"  
" _Well if that's not the case, I'd happily pull._ " The alien soothed the creases in his shoulder pads. "Listen, the teleporting indices haven't calculated properly and I-"

A lump entered Smithy's throat. The man thought it were out of anxiousness - until his gag reflex worked. Skin ruptured again with crystalline shards, he caught the blood splatters in his hand. Smithy shrieked, horrified when met with this and his right arm, which spasmed, veins slithering out from the wrists to the shoulders like shackles and pulsating against rotting flesh gathered around newly formed Quartz.

"-Might've handed you a badden from another crooked batch by mistake." Ozmo picked at his ear. "Want to know why I wear these visors? This planet's atmosphere disagrees with the makeup of my blinkers." He leaned in closer to the man. "I'm gonna 'ave to be quick but, _do y' want to know how I learnt that?_ " The alien pressed the switch next his right temple and the corresponding visor faded. His eyelid was twitching over a white which was bulbous in multiple areas, creating a split iris and pupil. "Yeaaa. Crystaltips, I'm sorry, my sight isn't what it used to be now. Which means things like this are been bound to happen." Ozmo quickly pressed the button again and the visor reappeared. "Half an hour, that's all it'll take, and I'll hand over another shot for your goods and services. I'd lock my diddy finger if I had one."

  
Smithy watched Carla through the crack in the door, who was still sat at the table waiting for him. He felt as though he were sat in a rocking chair, front legs in the air, about to fall backward into a neverending abyss ready to clamber it's arms around his frail body.

  
"F-f- _fine_!" The man spluttered, desperately smacking around with the fire exit handle until the door opened and clambering through as Ozmo vanished into thin air following agreement to his request.

The door to the corridor opened-

**Ah-ha!  
Ha!  
... Ha.  
..........  
Ha?  
Ah.  
Aha.  
**

-And the maitre d', watching the fire exit close over, turned away and slammed it shut again.

On his way out, a woman called for him.  
"Excuse m-sorry, Excusez-moi!"  
The man walked over to the table.  
Carla hesitated, showing him her pinky and thumb and placing them against her ear. "Monsieur Smith..." She nodded, pointing to the gesture. "On phone?"  
The maitre d' tried a smile. " **I can speak English, Madame,** " he told her in a lulling bass profoundo she hadn't picked up on earlier.  
"My god, I'm ever so sorry! I can't tell if you're native French or English, your accent's remarkable." The woman rested her knuckles on her chin. "Is the man you called out still on the phone?"  
The maitre d' sighed heavily. " **No Madame,** " he replied, with a hint of sorrow in his voice. " **I believe he left... I presume you will not be wanting to see the dessert menu, Madame; shall I fetch the bill?** "  
Carla nodded. "C-can I use your phone as well?" She pressed the home button on her mobile. The screen stayed black. "I think my battery's dead."  
" **Oui, Madame**."  
Then alone and shattered, Carla reached for Smithy's abandoned navy blue bolero and brolly as two friends clinked glasses at the next table.

"He did what?" thundered Clyde, taking a call just minutes later.

Carla leaned against the wall. "Smithy was asked to answer the restaurant phone and ... just left. Left your Mum at the table all by herself." She folded an arm around her waist. "Did he need to head back to Sarah Jane's?"  
"We're at hers right now," Clyde scratched his leg. "Smithy's not here."  
"A-h, I see." Carla stayed quiet, until: "Did he say anything about a visit to the hospital?"  
"'Highly doubt he's in hospital. Even if we do find out he needed to go, he could've told you he had to leave."  
Carla bit the edge of her thumb. "Do us a favour and don't mention this to anyone. 'Don't want to look an even bigger idiot than I am." The woman sounded embarrassed to the point where she was close to tears. "See you later, love. Don't worry about me, I'm used to losers. I'm more worried about Sarah Jane. Tell her if he's with another woman, would you?"

With that, she hung up.

"Smithy, y-"  
Clyde pushed his thumb on the end call button.  
"I'm going to _kill_ him!"

Rani was recharging the wind-up radio. "Is Carla alri-" she wanted to ask, before realising it was probably best left alone.  
Clyde started storming the attic aimlessly. " _Why does everyone want to know my private business?! Don't worry about it, OK!?_ " he snapped. "What you should join me in worrying over is the fact that we're looking out for Sarah Jane and Smithy now. Fantastic!" The boy threw his arms in the air. " _Fantastic_!"  
"W-wait a minute!" Sky turned up the volume on a television where the news channel, having switched over from an interview irrelevant to their concerns and skimmed across a London street, halted outside the Asquith Bank Vaults.

"A woman has been arrested in connection with the theft of a fine-cut diamond believed to have been worth £1.5 million," a male voiceover reported -

  
\- and parked next to the building, was a green Nissan Figaro.

Rani rushed over as soon as the lens was focused. "That's Sarah Jane's!"  
The younger girl turned to her friends excitedly. "She must've been trying to prevent a robbery!" she cried out in relief.  
"But by who?" Clyde walked over, his arms folded. "What's the bet's Smithy's involved? Wi-"

"Another victim of The Necklace Ripper has been discovered," the reporter continued in a grave voice.

The camera changed, now closing in on a crime scene. "Identified by a close friend, Miss Victoria Timothy aged 32 and recruited Manager of Waitspersons for the Forêt Noire was found dead close to the establishment just half an hour ago. The restaurant's Grand Opening only yesterday, the murder is also believed to have been committed recently, with Miss Timothy's life being cut short sometime during the late afternoon at arou-"

"-With a thing for waltzing around women, I'm throwing in a couple of grand to bet Smithy's behind all this as well," he added cynically, switching off the television. "Let's say - if I lose, I'm going to be paying off Luke's university fees. As soon as I've ... gotten past drafting and selling a few thousand volumes of Professor How."  
"Wait! What about the article Rani found?!" Sky rummaged through the newspapers scattered around Sarah Jane's desk and found the addition from earlier on that week. "A forged Mayan artefact was stolen from the London Museum and the real thing was replaced."  
"Only a _genius_ could pull off stealing like that!" Rani joined in agreement. She tuned the radio to static, every station they switched to having now moved on to report the same incident as the news channels were.  
"A genius, yes! Like Smithy!" Sky threw the paper back where it belonged. "Sarah Jane must've been following him. She might've been trying to stop him! We should start looking for clues at the London Museum." She grabbed a portable scanner from the coffee table. "We can help her!"

With that, the young girl sped out through the attic door, leaving Rani and Clyde to follow her.

The former turned to the latter. 

"That's why she's in charge."


	14. Chapter 14

_Ozmo never specified where to meet._

Smithy staggered through a dimly lit passageway next the restaurant.

_But I'd guess it were somewhere close by. Abandoned locations are usually his choice._

Following a set of winding back alleys, he came across a darkened warehouse.

_I don't understand how that bastard expects me to know._

The sealed entrance was broken off - almost inviting him in.

_I'm a Xylok.  
Not a mind reader._

Smithy ducked under a plank of wood hanging from the door frame and clutched his rotting hand, calling out for Ozmo when he wasn't retching blood until he stumbled upon the wall tiles. They looked as though they'd been fitted rather recently.

_Mosaics?_

He stopped dead in his tracks.

The first depicted two girls, one older and one younger, both in dresses and heading out. A monitor at the back of the room glowed, clouded in darkness. The second showed a man in a mask appearing, and the monitor was replaced by someone with auburn hair, wearing a gorgeous dress of their own. The third displayed this individual with a brown-haired woman, waltzing; however, our protagonist disappears in the fourth and in their place is a crystal beneath a clock struck twelve. In the fifth, his dancing partner carries the crystal through a neon lit dark night, leading onto the sixth, where the woman finds the room with the glowing monitor from the start and stands next to it.

There was a seventh, though this had since been destroyed.

_Were these made by him?_

And speak of the Devil, a pool of light spilled in through a hole in the roof, revealing the Krulka and his battered, ramshackle teleport cone.

"There you are! I kept dropping in and out because you were running so late."

Smithy snarled and spat on the floor.

Ozmo circled him, hands behind his back, and whistled the chorus to Survivor by Destiny's Child before throwing the cone in the air and catching it in front of the man. "Ain't she a beauty?!" he guffawed and snapped his fingers. Out popped a small keyboard from the base, a monitor from the side. 

Smithy dragged himself over, totalling the indices with the hand still human as the other crackled again. "O-Ozmo, I have to use the shot," he mustered.  
Ozmo creased his forehead and tucked his shirt in. "That wasn't in our deal," he chided. "We agreed I'd give you the shot after you got the job done."

"T-this is a life or death situation-" 

Smithy felt a loss of balance. "Have you been trying to kill me?" he asked weakly, blood spilling from his lips and running down his dress whilst trying to speak.  
"That wouldn't get us anywhere!" Ozmo crowed. He straightened his belt. "In my humble onion-"  
"-O-Opinion—" Smithy, despite his condition, went to correct him.  
"Onion," Ozmo nevertheless asserted. "I'd rather you were alive - but I'd still like some money still rolling in." 

He started tapping his foot. "Which means you're gonna need to work fast if the Reaper's sharpening the scythe."

0o0

_Stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm stay calm-_

Though understandably, how could one stay calm when there she was, Miss Sarah Jane Smith in all her glory - the woman who'd travelled through time and the furthest reaches of countless galaxies with The Doctor!? She was being kept hostage as well; Miss Sarah Jane Smith - kept hostage, I tell you! Our ex traveller was accused by others most likely responsible for a crime she didn't commit. This was, without a doubt, an instance where one was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Could they not understand her good character when they came upon her, or better, ask for evidence concerning her government business? Who could have such devotion to mind-boggling ignorance and audacity?

The Lance Corporals in their red berets and jet black armed uniforms caught Sarah Jane's eye, and she let out a sigh of relief as though she'd just returned to bed after another midnight round of custard creams without being found out by Mr Smith or the children.

The guards still kept a hold of her, however less firmly, until our heroes parted like the Red Sea to reveal a Private soldier quite different from her colleagues.

"Hello there!"

Sarah Jane's eyes widened.

The crystalline lifeform hovering a few feet above the ground produced an image of a woman donning almost the same attire as the Lance Corporals, with beautiful black skin, dark hair and brown eyes. A machine, lighter than it looked, was wedged into the shards to be carried around as a personal weight of responsibility.

"It's an honour to meet you Miss Smith." The projection held out her hand - and hesitated, withdrawing it as a claw from the Chassis unfolded instead. "I'm Miss Allstar, member of The Unified Task Force. There's no need to fret. Those accompanying me are just here to make sure we don't fire at one another."

Serafeim's projection flashed the guards a cheesy grin as she continued. "I'm here to compromise; we'll take it from here, as higher figures of security, and ensure this woman finds the lost property - so fit her with an ASBO tag, please!"

Well, the first guard took one look at her and fainted.  
The second guard was white as a sheet; he knew full well an alien confronting him wasn't in his job description, so locked a device onto the woman's leg and freed her.

Serafeim gave him the thumbs up. "Thank you, Mr Guard! Now though, I'm terribly sorry-"

Suddenly, her monitor displayed an irregular, technicolor pattern, and an aroma wafted out from the vents of her Chassis. "But, really, I hope you can come to terms with the very indisputable fact, and certainly not a case of me tampering with your memory at all, that I was just the manifestation of your Superego because you felt so guilty helping out with a definite, absolute lie. That, or I was the figment of your fantasy if you like, and you'll ask your lover if they're into technophilia later on."

Next she hurled Miss Allstar towards the two Lance Corporals accompanying her and continued in a low voice as their eyes watched the shrinking shapes on the screen. "You're going to report back how brilliantly I performed on this mission - _so_ brilliantly, in fact, that you thought it were about time to give me some more independence. Finally, yes; there you go, ergo, off you trot. You've got an early finish, boys! Go home, _go home_ , away, _away, begone, thank you_!"

And with that the men marched away with a security guard not far behind them carrying his unconscious colleague.

"You wonderful bank staff, you're so well trained! You know your work inside out; tell you what, you can take a week off, I'll Thomas Cook it later on and book a hotel in Spain!" Serafeim laughed, sticking out her tongue and revealing a reverse peace sign from her pocket - until she remembered Sarah Jane was watching her. "Oh for the love of-" She cupped her hands over her mouth worriedly and faced her. "Excuse my unprofessionalism, Miss Smith, I-"

However, Miss Smith didn't seem too concerned about that, instead busy sizing Serafeim up and down and arriving to the understanding that

" _Mr Smith has a lot of explaining to do_!"

Serafeim raised her eyebrows. "D-do excuse me if I'm overstepping my mark, but — n-not even a thank you, Miss Smith?" she stammered, slightly shocked at the sudden outburst.

Sarah Jane found herself grinding her teeth. "UNIT said there wasn't any Xylok activity-"

"-From _beneath the Earth's crust,_ " Serafeim finished for her, and a silvery laugh found it's way through the computer's speakers. "They said nothing about _above_ the Earth's crust, did they?"

Sarah Jane shook her head, drained. "H-h-h-h-h-h-h- _how many of you are there_?!" she started. "Mr Smith, Jack Johnson, now there's you-!"  
"How do you know about Cogspring?" Serafeim asked.  
Sarah Jane flicked back her hair. "I might have found a letter in his safe," she divulged smugly.  
"Ohhhh, I shouldn't've expect less from a journalist." A sly grin spread across the projection's face. "Maybe I could arrange for you to meet with Gretchen one day. It might come in handy."  
Sarah Jane squinted at her. "What are you implying?" she inquired apprehensively.  
Serafeim threw her hands together dramatically. "The _Xyloked-In-Love Group, Anonymous_!" she proclaimed, crossing a leg in front of the other. "You can go by _Mrs Smith_ instead, significant other to be of Mr Smith, and spill the beans concerning how you also took a fancy to your extraterrestrial supercomp-"  
Sarah Jane felt herself go tense. " _Does everyone seriously think I—_?!"   
"Everyone and their mother," Serafeim answered before she could ask the question.  
Sarah Jane cried out in distraught, covering her face with her hands.  
"Anyhow, anyhow!" The soldier smirked. "We've got to find this Diamond, don't we? Let's head to my office!"

0o0

So Sarah Jane carried Serafeim's crystalline lattice inside her cardigan hurriedly to the Nissan Figaro. Miss Allstar was strapped to her back, soon in the passenger seat next to the Xylok on their way to the museum.

As soon as the two arrived, the older woman removed the young alien, wedged the light equipment into its shards and waited for the projection to materialise again.

It brushed at it's coat. "Miss Smith, you're alright with teleportation, aren't you?" Serafeim asked.

Sarah Jane nodded, fading away with the green light nevertheless blasting out from a button next to the Chassis monitor.

When her feet found the floor again, she was faced with a heavy metal door.

A young girl was scanning the area.

Serafeim whistled to get her attention. "Kid! Closing time's in ten minutes and that's the entrance to my office," she barked. "Move aside, please!"

Sky spun quickly.   
"Y-you're a Xylok!"

The Chassis finger gunned her. "That's me! Bonafide sentient crystal, baby," the Xylok announced, and dropped the claws with a face at once void of emotion again. "Now, pleas-"

Though she hesitated. "Wait, how did y-?!"

"That's my daughter!"

Sarah Jane stalked over briskly to join Sky's side. "And you're not so much as laying a scanner on her." She hugged the girl tightly. "Oh, Sky, what are you doing here?"  
Sky returned her mother's embrace. "The Diamond robbery was all over the news, and they're broadcasting you as the one responsible!" she lamented. "Then we remembered about the stolen artefact, and -"   
"Hold on a second." Sarah Jane glared in Serafeim's direction. "You said we were heading to your office - and what a surprise! It's in the same museum where the Mayan artefact was stolen." She folded her arms. "Do you have anything to say about this?"  
The Xylok made the sound of a gulp. "I might've known about both The Artefact and Diamond," she confessed, though with vigour. "Smitty said he wanted the Diamond for a carbon refractor. Don't ask me why; I don't know."  
"The artefact?"

_He would have access to more Mutagen._ Serafeim faltered, recalling Smithy's explanation. _More Mutagen to become human?_

Sarah Jane and Sky watched her squirm intently.  
"-HewasanotherXylokinneed." Serafeim told them quickly, and the projection pursed it's lips. "That's all I'm able to disclose."  
"Hmmmmm..." Sarah Jane turned away disapprovingly. "And what have you got ther-a matter relay! Well done, Sky!"   
Sky beamed, proudly holding the device in her hand. "I thought, 'what would Sarah Jane do?' and—"

She paused. "Rani and Clyde are keeping watch outside, h-how did you get in?!"  
"Teleportation!' Serafeim chimed.  
To which Sky frowned. "Mr Smith was scared of me." It seemed as though she were also in the frame of mind to ask questions. "Why aren't you?"   
Serafeim smirked. "Because Mr Smith should've taken the form of a chicken."  
"Not all Xyloks are afraid of Fleshkind, then?"

The projection and colours of her Chassis monitor froze, before the terrified ramble of, "Don'tyoufuckingtouchmeIsweartoGodyoupintsizedpowerhousedoyouunderstandmeI'm-"

Sky giggled, making chicken noises.

Serafeim shrieked and her crystalline lattice quivered, the projection staggering with it, until Miss Allstar bumped into something behind her.

Rani exchanged a surprise glance with both Sarah Jane and Sky, which then led her to try to comprehend their newest companion. "Another Xylok?!" she cried out.   
"Another human?!" Serafeim wailed melodramatically, tilting her projection backwards slightly and crossing her index fingers over one another to imply a crucifix.

Clyde smacked into the door after Rani, and laying eyes upon Serafeim, wildly rummaged through his pockets. " _What the hell?! What the h_ -" Panicking he didn't have anything else to use as a weapon, he took out a pencil and lobbed it her way.

She deflected it, and there was a harsh 'clink-clink!' as it smacked into the wall and fell to the marble floor.

" _You're weren't meant to do that_!" the young boy raised his arms in the air and smacked them against his side. " _The lead'll be broken now_!"   
"' _You shouldn't've threw it then, should you_?!" Serafeim mimicked his gestures and tone. "I don't just throw a pencil at a human, do I?! As much as I want to, I don't, because I'm _polite_! _Polite_ is an adjective to describe respectful and considerate behaviour, just in case you didn't know-!"  
"Hold on—" Rani intervened before the discourse could escalate. "Isn't that a UNIT uniform?"   
"Yes! Very good, Rani." Sarah Jane relaxed her shoulders. She gestured the young adults to join her side. "If it weren't for Miss Allstar here, I'd be awaiting trail. She, very kindly, told them I could be under her surveillance."   
Clyde sauntered over. "You're onto Mr Smith as well then," he speculated.  
"Oh yes, I was onto Mr Smith from the _start_ ," Sarah Jane replied sharply. She tilted her head. "I've just been... keeping him on a very long leash."  
"I bet you wish you did," Serafeim japed.  
Blood drained from the woman's face. "Can you j-just! Shut! _Shut up_!"  
Oblivious to the very worried waving of hands from Clyde and Rani, Sky innocently decided to contribute. "Smithy said he didn't like to be compared to a do-"

Thankfully, saving the day, the matter relay beeped and a blue light flashed onto the screen.  
"What's that?" the girl asked, startled by the sound.  
Serafeim hovered next to her, allowing the Chassis camera to take a glimpse and enable the conduction of an analysis. "Traces of dymolectic energy," she concluded. "Dymolectic energy is just another way of saying Reverse Transcriptasia; this undoes the function of Mutagenic agent, otherwise known as Mutagen, when Xyloks are unable to regulate unnaturally large doses - which is usually the case for metamorphosis."  
"Can she track it?" Rani wondered aloud.  
Serafeim pouted. "Rude. Of course I can."  
"This could well be a hunch, but if you haven't had another Xylok here, this trace will lead us straight to Mr Smith," Sarah Jane then asserted. She turned to Serafeim hopefully.

The others followed suit.

"Miss Allstar. Does your teleporter have a longer range?"

Serafeim playfully pulled an expression as though she were insulted. "How did I know you would ask? I'm not even meant to be on shift yet," she crowed, and the projection vanished into thin air. Her crystalline lattice found the table close by, her Chassis monitor flooding with data.

0o0

Carla waited at the zebra crossing and watched the roads sadly.

Feeling alone was something she was used to. But having been exposed to a chance to escape such a life and meet someone new and exciting to form a potential solid friendship with, when she was unable to go out further than her street in so long due to wanting to fulfil the duties of a divorced mother and struggling with trust, it started to give her heart a good squeeze.

Suddenly however, the woman heard footsteps.  
She looked behind her and recognised the black locks of hair now tumbling beneath a particularly large top hat. The man carried a wooden cane in his right hand and wore a monocle over his left eye, which was bruised underneath.

He withdrew his focus from the spot which seemed to occupy his interests on the ground. " **I would never expect such a fine young lady like you wondering in such an indecent old place like this.** "

A smile could be seen to cover half the man's face.

The light turned green, though now Carla was far more interested in her acquaintance. "You're the maitre d' from earlier!" she exclaimed. "Didn't you have a quick shift?! I wish I had those hours."

" **That shift never meant to be mine**." The maitre d' reached into his top pocket. " **Have you not heard the news about Mademoiselle Victoria? She fell victim to The Necklace Ripper. What a fanciful woman; she was rather full of life. Her hair shone a blonde so bright, her skin was like snow and her legs like that of a gazelle. Someone of such beauty should never be drained of life by a man so foolish, though definitely someone with a strong sense of purpose**." He withdrew a cigar. " **Would you like some?** "

Carla shook her head.

The man took a puff, letting the smoke drift in masses and cloak them. " **Quite unfamiliar with the area, these last few days could substantially define tedious. Yes, one has been milling around; what is the fun in that, however?** " He stroked his cowlick. " **You were looking for someone were you not? Mr Smith with the flowing auburn hair, wearing a blue dress and wheeling an oxygen tank—the man is rather hard to miss.** "

Carla couldn't avoid noticing just how high he towered over her when the maitre d' approached to take her hands into his. He were taller than Smithy, very easily capable of surpassing the seven foot mark and additionally nowhere near as fragile; whilst his upper half could be judged as lean by most, it would seem that he carried a predominant amount of weight in his legs.

She were also able see his eyes now.

There were the deep blues and greens.

" **Well, follow me,** " he told her softly. " **I realise now where he might have headed.** "

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Flesh fell from Smithy's face, his sunken eyes and hollow cheeks far more prominent than before.  
  
Nevertheless, he managed to total the indices and the teleport cone glowed to life. The light revealed a large console and compatible screen from which Ozmo had presumably witnessed the events of the past month.  
  
"Well, here it is," the alien declared and outstretched his hand, holding a syringe with a huge needle. "Though I think you should know something about-"  
"It'll make me human forever, won't it?"  
He twitched. "How did you know?"  
Red saliva poured out from Smithy's lips. "Y-you said I should know all about the usage of biological augmentation agents - and I do, I do; I know that if one is to intake mutagen over a select period of time, they can maintain the genetic material currently assumed. I knew, I always knew-" The man exhaled with a quivery laugh and trembling hands as he consented to receive the syringe and gradually inserted the needle into his skin.  
  
As he did, his face grew rosier and his eyes glistened. "Perhaps now," he added wistfully. "It's entirely possible, following these occurrences, _entirely_ possible that—"  
  
"—This was certainly a genius idea of mine!"  
  
A monitor suddenly collapsed from the ceiling, adjacent to that of Ozmo's console, and against a black background there appeared streams of purples, pinks and blues.  
  
" _HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, SMITTY!_ "  
Serafeim's voice bellowed through a set of speakers either side.  
  
And the screen changed.  
Sky, Clyde and Rani were standing outside the entrance.  
Sarah Jane was closer to the monitor, holding a clear quartz crystal. "Yes," she continued after Serafeim's intervention. "Having your friend here use her long range teleporter and help us find you - again, as you said so yourself, I can be remarkable."  
  
The syringe slipped through Smithy's fingers with half the agent left. "They must've traced the Reverse Transcriptasia," he uttered worriedly to himself.  
Though Rani heard. "We did indeed!" She faked a smile. "Well done!"  
"You've got visitors?!" Ozmo exclaimed, interrupting the call. "Why didn't you tell me!?" And before Smithy could respond, he slammed his hands into the man's frail back and ushered him outside. "Well, go! Go see them in!"  
  
The alien then turned back to the console and slid his thumb across a line of buttons. "There's one born every nanosecond!" he cackled.  
  
0o0  
  
Smithy trampled through the PVC strip door and into the warehouse corridor.  
Clyde tried to lunge forward and Rani restrained him to allow Sarah Jane to step forth and play it much safer.  
"There's no sentence I could string together to convey how sorry I am," Smithy exhaled, ringing his hands panickedly.  
Sarah Jane neither disputed nor dwelled on his apology, and he found it surprisingly difficult to read her expression, unsure whether or not she felt angry, disappointed, terrified or sad - though he guessed it were very likely a combination existed. "We need an explanation," she simply demanded, folding her arms.  
Smithy pressed his fingertips together. "Yes, y-yes, you see-" he started meekly. "That night after the party at Gita's, this alien visitor found my sleeping quarters. He presented me with Mutagen in exchange for both the Mayan Artefact, and later on, the Facet Diamon-"  
"Wait, hold on," Rani cut his words short. "All this time, you've gotten your hands on more Mutagen?! It wasn't happening on its own!?"  
"I-I have. Yes, I have," Smithy replied.  
The others bored their eyes into him.  
He bit at his thumbnail. "That's how I met Serafeim and Cogspring, as well."  
"W-wait, why are we dithering over this?!" Sarah Jane clenched her fists deep into her cardigan pockets. "Right now, what's most important is who that alien you've formed an alliance with is."  
Smithy swallowed anxiously. "H-he's just trying to create a teleporter to get back home. The man is a Krulka, going by the name Ozmo-"  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
The colours on Miss Allstar's monitor darkened suddenly. "Ozmo?! The Krulka known for conning across galaxies beyond our own, with a considerable record already that the Shadow Proclamation are considering further investigation, prevention or punishment!?" It became clear that the Chassis reacted to Serafeim's levels of anger when a mechanical bow and arrow dropped down. She smacked it back into place begrudgingly. "I should've asked, _I should've asked_ who you were working with. I had a real inkling feeling you were working with someone - _Jesus Christ though never did I think you'd tell me Ozmo The Krulka!_ Don't tell me you didn't know, either. You're a _Xylok,_ y-"  
  
_"Well I'm a dreadful Xylok, I'm dreadful!"_ Smithy was quaking all over now, which worked as an advantage despite the initial disadvantages associated with physical arousal because it pushed him to explain himself further. "That's one of the many reasons why this opportunity just had to be ceased! Ozmo supplied me with Mutagen - and yes, these origins have turned out to be quite the issue, but do look on the bright side! I'll be human, just like the rest of you, and go through all the bad alongside you - and though I may not be able to use a long range teleporter, though my analytical mind is restricted now, though there's a little unease between us, and though I may be very ill-"  
  
He froze, and finished lamely, "That all sounded much better in my head before I actually said it."  
  
Which was when a deep throbbing could be felt throughout the warehouse.  
It's foundations shook, light spilling through the gaps in the door leading into the main area.  
  
"What's-" Rani started.  
"Let's go!" Sarah Jane asserted before she could ask, tugging at Sky's hand.  
Rani hesitated - nevertheless, rushed forward with Clyde beside her.  
  
Serafeim watched them hurry into the rays, and turned to Smithy pitifully before following them.  
  
0o0  
  
"I've been expecting you!"  
Sat at the console, Ozmo tuned his hologram in a way which would ensure the humans could see him and spun around on his chair to greet those who entered.  
Everyone kept their distance.  
"Do you see a flying wotsit around here? We don't give one," Serafeim scolded, a gun barrel revealing itself from Miss Allstar's control panel. "You're already giving it your all to redefine what it means to be criminal, and it's my job to prevent this from happening."  
  
She fired a laser - before Ozmo vanished. The Xylok could sense someone nearby, before:  
"BOO!"  
He reappeared right beside her and went to snatch the crystal.  
She dodged and used another laser, only to find he simply disappeared and materialised again next to the console and shielded himself. "This is a deflector field!" he roared. "Fire again! It won't be pretty, at least, it won't be pretty for you, _hahaha!_ "  
"Justice Field," Clyde muttered under his breath.  
  
At that moment, Smithy rushed in and removed the banana clip from his hair, his locks and dress flowing behind him. "Ozmo is going to disappear soon," he proclaimed, though with just the slightest confidence, and squinted his eyes the Krulka's way.  
Ozmo cracked his knuckles and his golden teeth flashed from beneath his chapped lips. "Indeed I am - and that's a promise," he announced heartily. "As I told the mineral earlier, I'd wrap my diddy finger with yas if I had one."  
"I'm a little less trusting of you," Sarah Jane scorned, fully acknowledging the extent to which Ozmo was using the one she admired.  
"You're - without a doubt - a slimy one," Rani joined in, and tilted her head, pointing towards the console. "That's way too much equipment for a teleporter."  
"Heh?" Ozmo scratched the back of his head and turned. "Oh, _that_!" he exclaimed, and smiled menacingly. "No, that's a teleporter alright. Just one thing - this isn't _really_ for getting me away from Earth."  
  
And with that, he threw open a case and slammed the big blue button kept within.  
" _It's for bringing others to Earth_!"  
  
Smithy was unable to prevent the metallic taste of fear swallowing his tongue, and he must've forgotten there were others watching him (or perhaps, in contrast, embedded the nature of such a circumstance deep within his conscious) because he let out an appalled inordinate whimper.  
  
The Earth appeared as a 3D Hologram, and Ozmo whipped out a microphone from beneath his console. "Bbbbbbbargin! Special Offer!" he rumbled, assuming the voice of a television presenter. "The planet Earth - is open for business! Yes - a level five world - only four and a half billion years on the clock! Just look at its unique features! Mineral resources! Lovely views! Six billion potential slave units - humanoid bipeds, gripping hands, lovely little workers! So - why not get yourself a slice of Ozmo's Earth pie? Simply transfer 50,000 credits to Ozmoid Industries and pop down my secure teleport channel, no questions asked. No monies returned!"  
  
Following this announcement, a disclaimer in small print scrolled across the bottom of the screen as a prerecorded voiceover added, " _OzmoidIndustriescannotbeheldresponsibleforanydamagedonetopersonsoritemsbeforeduringandafteryourtripandtravelcannotbeprovidedtotheplanetandbacktectonicmovementmaygoupaswellasdownandifoneexperiencesmotionsicknessitisadvisedafamiliarmemberofthefamilyorclosefriendshouldaccompanyyouwhilstyouvisit-_ "  
  
And the advertisement continued, with the console monitor cutting to landmarks and neon-lit fast food restaurants.  
  
Ozmo lowered his voice, realising he'd forgotten an important bite of information to disclose to his consumers. "We had three crystalline lifeforms scanning the skies on this planet, yes we did - guess what, though! Two were regular consumers of my Mutagenic product and they've got no reason or means of disputing my business now! As a matter of fact, despite the fact they're _neurotic as heck_ , they're _mighty experienced_. Who else would you want working in your information booth?" He then placed his hand to the side of his mouth as though he were now whispering to someone. "Don't worry about the other one - it's a woman."  
To which Serafeim revealed a set of missiles. " ** _I'll kick your monoids so hard they'll recede into your groin!_** " she spat.  
  
Ozmo gasped melodramatically and taunted her, twirling his finger above a red button on the control panel and sending her flying into the wall.  
  
"Miss Allstar!" Rani and Sky cried out together, the younger girl parting from her mother's side and heading over with the older girl to check if Serafeim's crystal and Chassis were still intact.  
Clyde ceased this opportunity to give Smithy a verbal beating. "I hope that was worth it, the price you just paid," he scolded him, gesturing to the shot angrily.  
Though Smithy was preoccupied with trying to figure out how to get through to Sarah Jane, panicking and apologising like a broken record.  
"Do you have the sonic lipstick still?!" she just asked sharply.  
He faltered. "Y-yes - can't you see the burn on my lip from earlie-?"  
"Then chuck it _over_ , the lipstick can break the force field! A minor burn in return isn't anything to me!"  
So Smithy whipped out the device from the chest pad of his dress; he threw it in Sarah Jane's direction, and she caught it between her fingers.  
  
Ozmo was now winding a phone line around his finger, and kicked back behind his console. "'Kay, 'kay, 'kay, 'kay, 'kay..." he chuckled down the line. "Uh-huh... Uh-huh, yes... Yes! Yes, three Daleks from The Backverse Planet Skaro. Three? Three humans. That's smashing, I tell y-I tell you what, if you want t' pick 'em up now, they'll be waiting on the doorstep right next to the teleporter for you... Y-YOU WERE ALREADY ON YOUR WAY!? LET ME KISS YOU! 'Seeing you soon then! Thank you, thank you, tell your friends! Tell your friends, bye—!" He slammed the phone back onto the receiver and sniffled with joy. "You wouldn't think I started out selling dodgy macroclamps from the back of my old dad's hoverboard! I'm an entrepreneur!"  
  
Sarah Jane eased the lipstick from it's case. "This planet is not for sale!" she lashed out through his reverie and hammered her thumb onto the button.  
Rani lifted Serafeim's Chassis slowly and gave Smithy a look able to drain the heart of any hope for forgiveness. "Smithy, you've proven yourself to have the mental agility - but if you ever had any common sense, it's gone," she snapped.  
"Alright, alright, can I say my bit now?!" Clyde intervened. He grabbed Smithy by upper arms, who squeaked. "Who the hell do you think you are messing around with my Mum!? Messing around with her feelings; testing out your own, I bet-!"  
"No! No, oh my Heavens, no!" Smithy wept. His tremors reached the point of no return at the thought of upsetting any of the Bannerman Road gang, and the thought that any of them could ever think he wanted to do such harm. "It isn't like that in the slightest! You told me she wanted to live life! I want to live life, and through this shared goal, we became friends!"  
  
Smithy managed to pull Clyde's hands off of him and started pulling out his tumbling locks hair of auburn hair and suddenly told all, in a blood curdling scream they thought would be impossible coming from him,  
  
**_"I want to be human!_**  
**_I'm just starting to live!_**  
**_I'm tired of relying on numerical data to make sense of my existence!"_**  
  
Well, no one knew what to say to that.   
Sarah Jane was particularly silent, with anything she had to say being replaced with a slight quiver of the lip - though again, this could be said due to an endless list of possible emotions - and she concentrated harder on her self assigned task.  
A good ten seconds pasted before Sky broke the silence, with her scorn of "Then be human!" as she took Serafeim's crystalline lattice into her arms, and added without hesitation. "A slave like the rest of them!"  
Ozmo shrieked with laughter. "Don't think I haven't got a job for you, Fleshkind!" he hooted, revealing a blue print from his pocket. "You'll be powering up the entire facility of duplicate teleporters, my little hamster on a wheel-"  
And at last, Sarah Jane broke the force field. "You're not doing anything of the sort!" she pronounced, levelling the sonic lipstick towards him.  
Ozmo had his hands in the air stat before trying to actually comprehend the weapon. "Wait... cosmetic zapper thingies?" he asked in a tone bewildered though amused. "What's she going to do, use light red with these colours?!"  
  
And he whipped out a gun. "I'd prefer a darker shade."  
  
"NO!"  
  
That was when Smithy was mercilessly grounded from his dissociative state to the idea of Sarah Jane being hurt, and before he could think to restrain himself, darted for the alien and rammed his fingers into it's visors, scratching his nails across the surface of the it's eyes - who shrieked and resorted to rapid fire.  
  
It was most unfortunate that Ozmo nevertheless caught Sarah Jane in a bullet, which caused her to collapse.  
Clyde ran to her side to help her up. "Are you okay?!" he asked, hurriedly and panickedly.  
"Y-yes, I'm fine," she mustered - and actually revealed her mobile phone from her top coat pocket. "There's truth in television."  
  
And as soon as he knew she was alright, Smithy back-kicked the gun out of Ozmo's hand and headed for the teleport control, a field of mutagen crackling through his entire body. "It doesn't matter what I want," he murmured and threw the Diamond out of the socket it was secured in. He sighed to try to get himself to calm down. "I could never live with myself if I hurt anyone."  
  
Hurriedly, Sarah Jane scampered back up and caught the Diamond in her hands.  
"Oh thank god!" There was a familiar wheesh, and Miss Allstar was active again. She threw her claws up and down, the projection materialising and waving her arms. "Sarah Jane! Over here!"  
"Ut!" Sarah Jane shot her a glare, huddling the Diamond to her chest. "Oh no you don't-!"  
"If you deal with him, I can get this to Cogspring; I can return it to good hands!"  
"I've had enough of you Xyloks and your problems at the moment."  
Serafeim narrowed her eyes. She hurled forward, a set of Miss Allstar's wires firing towards the woman. "Give it BACK!"  
"EURUGH!!"  
  
An ear piercing alarm began to sound.  
  
"NO!" Ozmo screeched. His eyes streamed with tears and puss as he tore at the edges of his mask. "NNNOOOOO!"  
"W-well then!" Sky barked. "Your plan being ruined is you getting what you deserve!"  
"AWWW! W-well then! I hope you're happy, kiddo!" Ozmo imitated her in an antagonistic and sarcastic tone. His meaty hands grabbed for her shoulder as something to lean on, however, she dodged. " _Death's just caught us in his fucking net now the Diamond's out of place!_ "  
"He's lying!" Rani cried out over the resonating drill.  
"Am I though?" Ozmo finally found his feet. A grin surfaced to his lips. "How'd'you know I'd lie about something like dying? Well, whatever - WHATEVER! You can have a fling at me if you want; mercy kill me, before everything's REALLY gone tits up you can hurl me into the shitting wal—"  
  
And that's when the building started coming apart.  
  
Sarah Jane and Serafeim stopped fighting.  
Everyone stood still.  
  
The structure creaked. Twenty screens emerged from behind the wall tiles, wires slithering out from beneath the floorboards like snakes, and a spike plate unfolded from the ground and rose into the air.

  
It was heading towards Sky and Ozmo.  
To the screams of those around her, the young girl let out an alarmed shriek and ran from where she stood.  
  
Ozmo clambered after her - though to his despair, he wasn't fast enough.  
The spike plate rammed into him and slammed him against the wall.  
  
There was a door in the centre of the machine from which steam whooshed, and finally revealing himself as it cleared, was the man who served Smithy at the Fôret Noire carrying an unconscious Carla Langer, who was limp in his arms.  
  
He tightened his arm around the woman's waist and posed his question waving a cigar between his fingers. **"Which one of you degenerates decided infiltrating my base was a wise idea?"**  
  
Smithy's pupils shrunk to the point where one would assume he never had any, and despite the young man's desperate screams to release his mother from her terrifying captor, held Clyde before he could throw himself away to the definite danger which lay before him.  
  
"Y-you just crushed him to death, mate," Rani managed, clutching Sky.  
The man lowered his head towards the two girls and raised an eyebrow. **"I know about the Krulka trying to claim - 'informal squatter's rights' if you like, over this warehouse. That does not answer me."**  
  
He blew a cloud of smoke, and with a poker face, preceded to point his cigar towards Serafeim and Smithy in turns.  
  
**"I wanted to know which one of you rotten little sods sought a connection with my Chassis."**  
  
Serafeim's projection was shaking, the crystal pulsing anxiously.  
Sarah Jane was still trying to process the depth of the situation, moving forward briskly, and working to press the fact that, this must be, "Another Xyl-"  
  
**"SILENCE!"**  
  
Alone the man's order startled the many - though to strengthen his command, the warehouse machine dropped an arsenal of weaponry.  
  
**"I would shed no tear blasting any human here into smithereens if they decide to intervene with all I was predestined to carry out. You are nothing but dust on a screen to me. I can brush you off and nothing will change."**  
  
"That bruise." Miss Allstar started tapping Smithy violently with a claw. "That bruise, that bruise, that bruise, that bruis-"  
Smithy realised any exclamation of horror was too late.  
**"Oh, so you now recognise the extent of your situation? Very good. Thank goodness neither of you have gone _completely_ native."** The man pointed to the illusion of dark crystal shards emerging from his cheek bone. **"I can change my projection as much as I like and try to cover it with foundation when I shift into human form - despite my attempts however, this Mutagenic mark of royalty never seems to go away. Admittedly, it's larger than it should be due to my usage of Mutagen for the latter. Does this not only further purpose, however?"** He grinned. **"Speaking of purpose, in fact, this is absolutely perfect. Exactly what I wanted and was required in the end."**  
  
**"Hold on-"** The man's face softened for a second. He withdrew the cigar into his blazer pocket and lifted a finger. After a few seconds, an orchestral score started to play. **"Mr Smith. Hello. This is Zigeunerweusen Op. 20 by Pablo de Sarasete, though you would recognise it without me needing to tell you."** He dug a nail into his lower eyelid and stuck his tongue out.  **"I would ask if playing my music bothered you and refer to you using Smithy - as a smart man, however, you should be able to arriving to an understanding of why I might not be obliged to do so."**  
  
The man cast Carla away from him in a spin as she began to slip and a thick wire broke through another floorboard, constricting her instead.  
  
**"What an honour to be what I - Aristoteles, The Xylok Heir - were looking for over the duration of millennia."**  
  
Through forty speakers there then arose those spine chilling, sultry tones of bemusement, which led to the responses from Sarah Jane, Clyde, Rani and Sky, to amount to nought. Additionally, the former confidence of Serafeim vanquished like the excitement of a firefly as it reached the flame, and caused her to retreat from the scene with the Bannerman Road gang - enveloping the five of them in a teleportation field.  
  
Leaving Smithy with a singular word to accompany him, one we all know very well and utter between ejaculations both angry and inappropriate:  
  
**_"Fuck."_**


	16. Chapter 16

_2nd September, 2008_

_Korst Gogg Thek Lutiven-Day Slitheen sat in front of the television screen and passively allowed the dark baritone dripping through the speakers to resolve his worries._

_"You think you're all by yourself?" the voice asked him in a tone as bitter as the end of a coffee._

_He nodded slowly._

_"I did as well. The thought enters our heads at least once that we must be by ourselves out here both in the literal and mind related sense. We've been torn away from our families, or units, torn away from who we once were — or who we were always told we should be." This was followed by a sour laugh. "There are Slitheens I can put you in contact with and they would be happy to look after you. You aren't totally isolated from your kind or those you can depend on."_

_Korst laced his claws together shakily. "Thank you-"_

_"Additionally," the voice continued - after hesitating for a few seconds. "I would pay you all an immense amount of money if you were to do something on my behalf."_

_"H-how much are we talking?"_

_"You couldn't even fathom how much. I would be correct in saying your children's children's children's children would still be unable to spend the pay check in their lifetime."_

_Korst frowned. "You're pulling my leg."_

_"Why would I lie to someone who understands my situation and of whom I understand theirs?" the voice sighed._

_The frown wasn't as severe now. "Where'd you be getting this money from then?"_

_"I have means of accessing ridiculous amounts of which would guarantee you enough funds to sell a universe alongside it's parallel sisters."_

_There was a crackle, followed by what Korst could only assume was a chuckle._

_"You have an opportunity, boy; you might as well cease it! You're young, and feel unfortunate stars have aligned your life after experiencing such a traumatic event. You shouldn't fear though. The task I'm about to assign you you'll find most favourable and satisfying - this will involve those who sealed your father's Fate getting their comeuppance._

_And, you will be contributing to something remarkable — after all, we ALL have a Purpose here."_

0o0

"There’s a Royal Family of Xyloks?!”  
“To be honest, I struggled with the fact that there were Xyloks other than Mr Smith around in the first place.”  
“For real though, how can rocks have a monarchy?”  
“Who cares about that?! How long has this heir been running around for!?”  
“I’m not being funny, but I don’t care how long that creep has been lurking in the shadows, he has my Mum-”  
“Smithy's back there too, what on Earth is he going to do with him?!”  
“He… can’t be that bad! He dealt with Ozmo for us, right?”  
“Sky, now isn’t the time for making jokes. That was the most graphic thing I’ve ever seen and we’ve had intestines splatter against our new clothes more than twice over the last few years."  
“I’m not making jokes, I’m serious!”  
“That spike plate was heading for you as well, you know! If you were hurt, I would have been beside myself for the rest of my life. And did you not hear what that man said? He said he wouldn’t feel remorse if we were dead. Whatever’s going on right now, this is so, so serious, and-”

“PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPLEASE!”  
Serafeim yelled over the noise, and the clamour softened to silence.

Which gave Clyde room to voice his concern. “Is… my Mum dead? W… wait, even if she’s not-” He raised the volume as he turned to her. “It won’t be long now, will it?! Y-you’ve transported us to an estate which is driving distance away from that warehouse because the lot of you Xyloks are the biggest cowards I know, and my Mum could be dead right now!”

Serafeim cocked her monitor and head towards Clyde sharply. “No, your mother isn’t dead," she snapped. "I performed a deep scan on her as soon as Aristoteles entered. She's unconscious - and I can say with absolute certainty she’s going to be kept alive as well - because it’s likely he's going to trade your mother to Smitty in exchange for something else.

And I can guarantee you that Smitty isn’t going to let your mother get hurt if he thinks he’s hurt her enough already, or has any kind of emotional intelligence at all - which, don’t argue that he doesn’t because if he’s stuck by you for the last few years, he must be pretty tolerant.

And my Purpose is to guard. I transported you away from here because you and your friends, never mind myself, would be incompetent against that horrible man - you stupid boy!"

Clyde backed down, and Serafeim could see the tears in his eyes - her features then less defined.

“Fuck. Fuck, that’s a lack of emotional intelligence,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I-”

"You left Smithy back there," Rani protested again. "I'm just about able to stick the man at the moment, but why did you leave him behind?!"

"If Aristoteles wants to talk with Smitty, it would be a step towards Death's doors to refuse him the conversation – well, what I lack in emotional intelligence, I do hope I make up in common sense, Miss!"

“We can save condolences for later.” Sarah Jane straightened out her jacket. “Miss Allstar, if anyone has any leads in order to get us to understand who this is and what's happening, it’s you, and you’re going to need to be very, very soon with how you go about it.”

Serafeim froze.

And the sound of an exhale passed through the Chassis speakers. “Aristoteles is our Prince. He has an older sister back on our home planet, who should be the Queen by now. The first crystal grew where we come from has always taken the throne regardless of their gender - obviously, however, there are going to be some wicked people who wouldn’t approve, including the younger sibling.”

She shut her eyes, as though she were reimagining an event in history long since gone. "Aristoteles has resented his sister and the fact that she’s older than him because it means the chance of him being considered a King is zilch. He’s hungry for power. It was always the way, and apparently he found his way to the surface. Don't ask me when or how, because I wouldn't like to think, as this means that bastard must be thinking of another way to gain access to it.”

“Wait, another?” Sky asked worriedly. “Did he try to do something in the past?”

“More than one thing, I can assure you,” Serafeim replied. “Before we came to Earth, he hired various undercover servants to try to assassinate his sister. Thankfully, looking out for the Princess herself was my first occupation, and I worked alongside the others to keep her out of trouble. But that's a story for another time.

Something which should concern us now is how back then Aristoteles worked with the Royal Scientist who acted as his surrogate father, and the two stole a TARDIS from a passing Time Lord - when the professor returned from venturing into the future, he collaborated with Aristoteles on a project to code a means of long distance mind control.

Around 61 million years ago, our King proposed we should observe your beautiful blue planet - and so, the Excursion to Earth was brought to light." The projection squinted her eyes. "Aristoteles was insistent on leading - in a way, however, which suggested it wasn't simply an act of impulsivity. It was as if had a plan.

And now, very recently, women are turning up dead for a reason I haven’t a scooby about, and seeing as it’s in this vicinity, it wouldn’t surprise me if Aristoteles w-"

“Hold on,” Rani interrupted. Her eyes widened. “Mind control? As in … they had no clue what they did? Or would they've internalised what this Aristoteles was telling them and follow through anything he asked of them out of their own will?”

“Y-yes – well, actually, that would be depend on the self confidence of the person,” Serafeim answered quickly. “If one’s self confidence was unaffected - for example, they gained confidence in themselves before Aristoteles had his wires coiled around them - they might never find out about what they did, at least, not from their own recall.

However, if one’s self confidence developed whilst working with Aristoteles, they would’ve relied on him for a sense of meaning and unconditional positive regard, actively carrying out whatever he wanted them to do - and unless someone interrupted their account of this episode in their life, they would’ve remember what happened."

She gulped.

"Which means if you're playing silly buggers with the idea of destiny you ain't going to get out of it easy.”

Sarah Jane fell to her knees.

_"He's alien," Maria Jackson told her father under a night sparkling like spritzer. "I don't know where from. Not sure if Sarah Jane knows-"_

_"-and we pray every night that he's out there somewhere, unharmed, and that he'll come back to us soon," Jay told the press the following day, drawing attention to a boy who wasn't actually lost._


	17. Chapter 17

Bloodshot eyes twitched and rolled.  
Pupils dilated and shrank.  
Darted from side to side.

Twenty of them, for twenty monitors.

All seeing and all knowing.

_Whatever happened to the good old screensaver, a-an array of fluid colours against a black background?_

Cables slid out and over the rickety warehouse foundations like maggots to the discarded fruit. A measurement of heart rate and blood pressure soon appeared on a screen much smaller than the others - presumably that of Carla.

The whine of the violin in Zigeunerweisen was chilling against the acoustics, and Smithy could hardly stand on his heels now; he realised he was shaking just that much, and he hadn't spoken a word since the utterance of a curse when his friends left him behind.

"You're using Mutagen and a Chassis," he finally managed.

Aristoteles raised an eyebrow. " **Does this concern you?** " he asked in an unexpected and bemused tone. " **Well, Mr Smith, I have no qualms with taking a short moment out to entertain you and provide you with an answer to your contemplation: my Chassis might be very old - however, it is also very well made, and as well as cybernetic linking, I am rather adept in the art of metamorphosis and have built a regulator to assist me. Therefore, in a nutshell: I have a permit, if you must.** "

The largest monitor of them all clanked forward, and the words 'I Can Do What I Want' scrolled across the screen.

Aristoteles then snapped his fingers, and a leather swivel chair emerged from the wall. As he sat down, he gradually stretched his legs against the arms. " **It was in Borneo, during World War One; humans were firing their guns and tossing their bombs as though they were the most sufficiently technologically advanced beings in the galaxy** ," he explained. " **But yes, Borneo, 1916 - this was when and where I found the Earth's surface. You had quite the head start on me, I must say - and shamed yourself; your refuge is in the company of absolute ragamuffins**."

"It would benefit us both very much, I should think, if you were able to explain why you've been searching for me," Smithy asserted with all his might to prevent the poke at the others from getting to him.

Aristoteles leaned forward. " **You want to return to your Chassis, do you not? You thought you were too, before I came along - and off scuttled those little goats and monkeys you were gallivanting with.** " He snorted. " **This misadventure of yours, becoming human, has allowed me to gain access to you in a way I was unable to when you were residing upstairs in that little house of let-loose urchins. However, returning to your Chassis is the decision I would have advised for you to choose. After all, Mr Smith, you have a Purpose to fulfill, do you not?" And paused. "Actually, in fact, if you do not mind me asking-** "

Aristoteles rose from his chair and headed Smithy's way, rolling his eyes so the whites were all that showed. " **What is your Purpose?** "  
Smithy felt a shiver down his spine. "To protect Earth," he mustered.  
And at that, a violent, static-filled cackling echoed throughout the warehouse and Aristoteles' pupils rolled back into view. " **How could you know this was the case when you have memories you fail to recall?** " he prodded.  
Smithy's voice changed to an almost inaudible whisper. "You know about that-"  
Aristotle chuckled lowly. " **The reason you seem to be suffering is because you deviated from who you are. But never mind, never mind! Fate has a beautiful way of guiding us back onto the right path**."

He twirled a strand of hair. " **On the other hand, there are those who have been condemned to suffer beneath mantle of this planet now, are there not? There is no chance of them finding the necessary resources to build a Chassis and dig their way out. It is most unfortunate, but the stars must wish for them so desperately to resign from seeing the light again**." His voice oozed into Smithy's ear, as though it were dark chocolate spilling into a mould. " **My father appointed me an important position since the day I first grew, whilst it were my sister who was heir to the throne.**

 **My name means The Best of Purpose. I am to lead us forth towards the most appropriate, high standard measure for evolutionary means. Returning to using a Chassis seemed the more revised decision a while back. Now, contrarily, I have had to consider our new circumstances. As part of my star-casted work, this can mean that we might have to deviate drastically from the norm. And so** -"

Aristoteles tilted his head, and all twenty monitors of his Chassis titled with it - the collective heavy clicks causing Smithy to flinch.

"- **I am looking to restart our species on Earth.** "

Smithy couldn't move. "Come again?"  
Aristoteles combed back his fringe. " **Mutagen is toxic in small doses, and if we find it so useful to take on a human form, like how I am now, and how you have been, for example, then why do we not do so permanently? Thus, I think, the best action forward, would be to-well-share our genes with the human race**." A heavy, aroused expiratory sound gushed out from the speakers. " **And I find it very simple to find an interested woman. They never tell you about human beings and their weird and wonderful paraphilias-** "

That's when the penny dropped. "Wait-"

" **Most unfortunately, my search still continues to find a lady of whom the necessary agent actually agrees with. If one is to believe in Heaven, t-these maidens have reached not the figurative, but the literal, also** -!"

Aristoteles let out a small whine, one which Smithy knew almost immediately was insincere - and this made it all the more terrifying.

" **Please! I can hardly bear this burden-!** " 

And a compartment of the Chassis dropped, releasing several bludgeoned corpses.

Never mind this supposed burden - the stench and sight of rotting flesh was almost unbearable, to the point where Smithy thought he needed to turn away to vomit.

" **Oh, but-!** " Aristoteles then cried, and narrowed his eyes as a grin stretched across his face like tight elastic from a slingshot. ” **I do hate to say it, but Carla Langer here, her figure is defined so gorgeously!** " His pupils dilated as he spoke, voice drowning in intoxication. " **I do hope I can win her heart, of all the hearts I have, and I do hope not to arrest it.** " A claw stroked her cheek gently, and Aristoteles turned to Smithy with an expression mockingly wistful in nature. " **I do hope she can become my wife-! And, I must interrogate you here** -" He tightened the wire around his captive. " **Why would such matter to you anyway? This woman, and those others you have supposedly bewitched, are probably just feeling sorry for you because - well, look at you - you deviate from cultural norms by wearing clothing which is not usually associated with your assigned gender, they know you have access to an immense amount of money, and there is no requirement for understanding of Mutagenic energy to know if you completed the transition, you have at the most a year to live, having to rely on that oxygen tank of yours for a critical cond-ohhhh, I am dreadfully sorry. Let us move on.**

**You are very likely thinking, after your visits to Cogspring's Watches and Jeweller's, then who could have murdered little Lex Johnson? Why would His Highness, The Best of Purpose, take the life of an innocent child? Especially when he could be deemed to have fit the criteria he felt necessary?"**

Aristoteles' mutagenic form started to warp, and clambering through the Chassis speakers, were the static-distorted, desperate weeps of an American-British child —

— and after that indecipherable blur, there stood Cogspring's son - only with the same gathering of Quartz beneath his eye.

" **This is true! He cut my thread - I had no time even to say goodbye to my Mummy and Daddy!** "

And with a snicker, Aristoteles returned to his original shift and altered his voice back to normal.

" **There is quite an easy explanation for why I took the fragile life of Lex Johnson: he was not of my own, and additionally, Cogspring was human during his conception - so really, this would not have counted. Nevertheless, it rubbed me the wrong way.** "

Smithy clutched at his chest. "You're heartless," he exasperated.

Aristoteles continued regardless. " **I _am_ slightly apprehensive of Carla here though, for she does not hold any reputation on Earth... She is not royalty, nor is she in any other position of power - to face the same Fate, for there to be another victim succumbing to the Necklace Ripper - I do find the very concept horrifying though necessar-AH—** " He clasped his hands together. " **But maybe there is a woman who holds power on behalf of this planet.** "

That's when Smithy felt as though his stomach was turning inside out.

" **Mr Smith, a Child of Time, who fought alongside The Doctor and others affiliated with him when The Daleks tried to vanquish Earth — you stand before me now,** " Aristoteles proclaimed. " **But were you not assisted by The Archetype? That would make another Child of Time - and he was the adoptive son of the far more prominent Child of Time out of the three of you - companion to The Doctor, she is the one you have tried so hard to but just cannot rid of your emotional depth for -** "

Aristoteles soothed the tip of his hat.  
" **Miss Sarah Jane Smith.** "

He ground his teeth with an evil grimace. " **Now, would that not be a grand show? His Highness, The Best of Purpose, and a Child of Time, Former Companion to The Doctor, starting a new race - oh? You seem rather pissed off.** "

"What kind of woman do you think she is?" Smithy asked angrily.

Aristoteles licked his lips. " **Has she not been interested in you?** "

Smithy felt his jaw clench. "I don't know," he told him through gritted teeth.

" **Well**."  
Aristoteles squinted tauntingly, changing shape again —

— and Sarah Jane stood where he once was.

" **You were cooped up behind a wall, were you not**?" he poked at Smithy in her voice to add salt to the wound. " **And Aristoteles' structure — ohhhh, it takes up over half of this building! You know what they say about a large Chassis, do you not?** "

She turned away bashfully, with an out of character shriek of embarrassed laughter. 

_**"Large wires!** _

**_Her disappointment, it would be of no surprise!_** "

Aristoteles intermingled his own cackles and jests with hers. " **Poor, unfortunate Smithy! But there exists no need for you to worry yet! Aristoteles still has Carla Langer here. If I am not mistaken, her son did defeat The Leader of The Pantheon of Discord!** "

Aristoteles revealed his preferred shape and tone again. " **You know what?**   **I am going to give you a choice.** " he declared, lifting Carla in the air. " **You can sacrifice this woman in turn for yourself to remain human, now that the dilemma with the Krulka has been sorted. Or—** "

He straightened out his blazer.  
" **I return both the woman to you - and your memories - in which I would make it certain you took the procedures to return to your crystalline lattice**."

Smithy was unsure. "What's in it for you then?" he, very understandably, made his query.

Aristoteles frowned. " **Nothing** ," he replied.

The other man hesitated. "Nothing at all?"

" **Are you questioning my aptitude as a man of duty to his citizens, regardless of who they are?** "

"N-no." Smithy bit at his thumb nail. "M-my memory is something I've longed for for many years."

" **What a wonderful man you are.** " Aristoteles' grin thinned into a menacing smile as he gently lowered his hostage onto the floor, freeing her as promised, though not without stroking her hair with one of his wires.

Smithy shuddered, and, certainly not that he wanted to, but he knew, if he were to reconsider another chance to think about the choices presented, it would have been too late; a monitor positioned further to the back of Aristoteles' Chassis headed his way, the screen erupting into static, erupting into black and white, geometric illusions, before his surroundings faded to nothing.

_"Mr Smith, I need you, more than ever," Sarah Jane's broken voice filtered through to him suddenly from the past with Luke by her side._


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO I finished this quite a while ago actually, but I wanted to experiment with it before I posted it - to then realise I liked how I planned it originally. Ah.
> 
> So now it's here.

_13th November, 2008_

_You don't expect it.  
During those times of darkness when you start to question the meaning to your life, it crawls out and grasps at your shoulder, disguised as the answer to everything - a master in the art of misleading, a who and what like these._

_Sarah Jane might've been ready to cry, her son wavering from side to side as the scanner checked him over before the extent to which similarly was evident could be unveiled._

_"Luke and Ashley Stafford are the same person."_

_As with most lies, this one was spat rather quickly like fat from a grill. However, to outside listeners, this were merely an assertion in a tone they hadn't heard before._

_He expected Sarah Jane to then run Luke to the house herself, but Chrissie Jackson, an extraneous variable in his remarkable field experiment, called the police, and it wasn't long until he could hear the cries from outside, the defending woman the offender, the offending woman the defender, and Luke smacking his hands against a police car window._

_These walls have ears, you know._

_"Some people get concerned about pruning their plants. You shouldn't be. All plants want to do is grow. If you cut back too much-"_

_"Xylok, are you there?"_

_0o0_

_Following the interrogation, Sarah Jane headed straight home, and he couldn't help but detect high levels of physiological and emotional arousal coursing through her. This lead him to drop the handkerchief of supposed reassurance, with, written on the cloth, that matters lie open for her to discover._

_She was perched on the attic step. "I didn't call you."_

_"Perhaps you didn't realise that you need me," he replied almost immediately._

__**Called on and packed away again until the next time.  
** That tends to be how it goes.  
But always here, to the point where you start to question why.  
'I let other people paint my life because I don't want to intervene where, according to unspoken rule, I shouldn't.'  
Although hues are allowed to exist outside the primary and the secondary. 

_"You need a purpose, Sarah Jane. All things in the universe need a purpose. Without purpose, we cease to be."_

_"What are you talking about? Look, I'm not really interested."_

_**Of course she shows no interest; who could EVER not take for granted anything you have to say? And waiting around the corner, there lies** _

_**"A destroyer of worlds, in the right hands, with the right mind."** _

_Then you're starting to raise the flags, on that middle ground of denial where you find something thrilling - truly elevating - in careless confession of the truth._

_"It IS fake._  
I faked it.  
More than you can ever imagine."

_**Well, you know what they say.  
Fake it until you make it.** _

_**Fake it.  
Just fake it.** _

_**Fake it. Fake it. Fake it.** _

_**Fake it Fake it Fake it Fake it  
Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake Fake** _

_"I have a Purpose._  
I haven't gone bad.  
I'm fulfilling my Purpose."

__**FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE  
** FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE  
FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE 

_**FIRE, AND WATCH THEM RUN.** _

_"When it comes to pretending you take the biscuit."_

_"...I'm a Xylok, I'm not on anybody's side._

_I have my Purpose."_

_Everything felt wrong; it felt so very, very wrong - and at the same time, everything felt as if it were exactly as it should be._

_It felt as though everything was falling into place._

_0o0_

_A young boy entered the house again and pleaded for his mother as he clambered through the door.  
Slipping down the staircase, however, came the beckoning of, "Luke! Up here, Luke—"_

_And upon reaching the destination,_  
"She left something for you.  
There really isn't time to argue."

_**Pleading for another option, but since when did YOU have one?** _

_**R̤U͔̱̲͖̪̳̙N͚͙N͔͓͕͙̝͚̫I̫̻̜̺̦̰͕Ṇ̦͖̯̙G̺͈ ̘͇̭̱̺O̥̥̤͇ͅU̻͉̮̤͇ͅT͕̰̪͖̬ ͉̺̜̞͕̺O̻̣͈̱̙F͙͙̜̮̦̪ ̙̣̯̱T̬̝͖I͔̫̙̯͓̱M̳͓̳͉̪̰̩E̙ ͓̺̤̪͉͚̞A̖N̮̩̗̝͍̞D̪̱͉̟̰ ̺P͈A̦̯̘T͎̮̤̹̩̺̯I̠͔E̮N͖̯̙̮̭̪͉C͈͖ͅE͖̜̙̟͎͓** _

_**Give me more, and let the universe witness the power of the Xylok once morHͬͥ͞A̺͖̫͛̋͋͐͛H̴̉̂̒̇A̷̟̻̯̼̝̦͒ͦH̘̙͐̃ͦ͋̔ͭ̚A͍͉͔͒̾̌ͧ̌͡Hͬ̄̔̿ͦ̿͟Â̜̟͉̩̠͘H̺͔̉͒̿̄͂͠Á̱̞͖̪̯͓̻̅̿̂́H͎̗̮̝͇͎̦Ḧ̲̰͙͎͈̤̙́͌̽ͮ̑̆̒A̰̦ͣ̏ͨH́ͤ̕A̘̻͚̣̗̗͙͗̐ͦ̏H͓̬̪͈͙̪̄͂̽ͪ̃̚̕A̐̓͒̃̋͊̚҉̺̥͓H̡̤̼̖͔̯̙͉̔A͙̦͕̦̙̳ͤͅH̯͔̝̱̦̹͒͂̎A͜H̟̻̖͓̾̇̃A͔̘͈ͥ̅̅̈̑ͭ̕Ḩ̙̩̫̌̎̑ͯͨ͂ͣA̘̿ͬͩ͛̃̀͊͡H͚ͮ͜A̭̠̹̬̥̣ͧͧ͛͐͊ͅH̢͍̥̫̺͎̑̃̍H̘̳ͦ̄̏̐̅̏̔A̓͏̘̗̗̫Ạ͎̗̽ͥͫ̉ͥ-!"** _

_  
... Never underestimate the power of your loved ones._

_"You're part of the original crystal; you're still in contact with it," Sarah Jane exasperated, slamming a few buttons in an attempt to force shut him down._

_It can feel as though ~~you're going to kill~~ billions of people are out to get you._

_"The release of the Xylok is my Purpose-"_

_"YOU'RE EVIL-!"_

_"NO, effective!"_

_When really, you've fell into a brilliant disaster - and the worse ones are those who turn you against others._

_"We will do so much more than the human race. The universe is served better by our survival."_

_Everything felt wrong; it felt so very, very wrong, and everything felt right; it felt so very, very right._

_But everything *would* feel right if your logic is wrong, and everything would feel *wrong* if your logic was on the right track._

_So everything felt._

_"I am not evil._  
Am I no merciful?  
I owe you the mercy of a quick death.

_Only my Purpose matters.  
We all have a Purpos-_

_-What life do you have?  
All alone in your attic."_

_There are two means for why something interferes with your life:_

_In a cry for help, or to help you cry._

_"... What have you done to me, Sarah Jane?_  
I feel...  
... I feel strange."

_And everything felt.  
It felt as though everything was falling apart._

_"I'm forgetting at all; Sarah Jane, help me-!"_

_It felt.  
It felt as though everything was falling._

_"I'VE FORGOTTEN MY PURPOSE!"_

_Apart—_

_And that's when the gentle voice of guidance, sincere guidance, after your wild goose chase for a chance to be something, finally reaches you:_

_"Your purpose is to save the Earth, Mr Smith._  
That is your new purpose.  
To save Earth."

_It was right beside you all along.  
It felt as though everything was falling into place._

_"Yes._  
I have a Purpose.  
Thank you, Sarah Jane."

 _————————————————_

_Some people get concerned about pruning their plants. You shouldn't be. All plants want to do is grow. If you cut back too much, it doesn't matter. The plant will grow again._

_Keep trimming and snipping away._

_Plants are meant to bloom in a way you would find beautiful, and you can train a plant to do exactly as you want._

_Because all plants want to do is grow._


	19. Chapter 19

Smithy regained his consciousness with a sudden jolt of the head - and if we were to consider this awareness external to us, he was already thrown from the edge of the platform and onto the train of thought, as though it had sliced through his chest and began twanging at a few of his heart strings, asking himself: 

_ How long, how long have the sands of time slipped through my fingers? _

It didn’t seem as if he were too far behind - though, it certainly weren’t a trip to the corner shop and back to fetch a pint of milk. 

The clouded nature in which he perceived his surroundings gradually cleared, and Smithy realised he was rested on a futon situated beneath the rays of the main lights, acting as an embrace from the terrain of the grounded.

There was a dimmer glow to the corner of his left eye. 

Aristoteles was perched on a lowered monitor of his Chassis, the screen saver having returned to the depiction of a grotesque human eye as he smoked on another cigar - until he heard the rustling of Smithy’s blankets.

“ **You return to us at last,** ” Aristoteles boomed, and, finally noticing the other man’s watering eyes, gazed down sorrowfully at the vice before casting it towards two skeletal figures, who were seemingly crawling out from where they were meant to be hidden following his reveal on their behalf. “ **How do you feel?** ”

Smithy sat up against the wooden headrest, against the demands of his bony back, rustling his hair as though to demonstrate sorting through these newly acquired memories of the past. 

“ **It hurts, does it not?** **I mean, of course, the likelihood for tremors to occur after retention for such an intake of information is certain; you might also find that you struggle with speech impediments in the long term, however, this will subside should you return to your Chassis, or when your focus is drawn to an important matter which is very high in your priorities.** ” 

Aristoteles approached Smithy’s bedside.  “ **However, I wish to draw your attention more so, for the time being, to the agony experienced through the need to compromise with your emotional intellect.**

**Your current situation reminds me of a fable. It is that of a man and his son who long to sell their donkey, and trudge through crowding villagers of different expectations.**

**'Why should these men walk when they could ride?' was asked. 'Why should the young ride when the old are far more vulnerable? Why should the old ride when the young are living in the consequences of the actions taken by those who experienced the age before them? Why should the donkey carry the burden of man?'**

**The miller and his son try to please all and end up losing their donkey, and during these times, such would mean they lost their source of income, their means of living without immense hardship - thus, their means of a life worth living, one might say.”**

Aristoteles tilted his head. “ **The primitive lifeform said to be that of higher order thinking on Earth would be displeased with whichever decision you chose. You cannot please the collective man without his disapproval, and should you try, this would lead to your downfall.”**

He raised an eyebrow. “ **Additionally, I have no doubt you have found yourself faced with many situations from which you have been excluded by those you consider close without reasoning as to why, even if we ignore your stationary position when they venture to target destinations.** ” 

The man suddenly rummaged through his blazer pocket again, revealing an old photograph with a woman dressed in dated clothing standing next to a contraption slightly smaller than his current Chassis; however, Smithy could still recognise certain compartments.

“ **When was the last time you had your picture taken?** ” Aristoteles asked.

“I don’t think I have, now that you mention it.”

“ **Never?** ”

“I’ve ... never had my photo taken,” Smithy asserted - frustration etching itself further into his face. “Excuse me, I don’t understand the relevance of you asking me this.”

“ **Well, I think it would be best if I were blunt with you,** ” Aristoteles continued, folding away the photograph and shoving it back where it belonged. “ **_You are a used man_ ** **\-- if really deemed such rather than a tool -- and you cannot be considered family by your supposed allies, nor can they consider you a true friend of theirs. You are far too different from them, and not only that, but events have isolated you from your kind in more than just the literal sense, which would mean-”**

His eyes were hidden by the shadow of his hat’s curve.  “- **_You could truly deem yourself alone, could you not?_ ** ” he taunted. “ **_How must that feel to exist an entity without a genuine means of assurance from that which surrounds him, from those who surround him?”_ **

Aristoteles could’ve gone on, however, he contemplated as if he were searching for the bait in his basket ideal for the fishing hook to reel in a prize;

“ **Diamonds to a young woman can be seen as her best friend - have you heard of such sayings? You should then know that, on the other hand, a dog can be seen as the best friend to man, and we can understand this ‘man’ possibly a generalisation of human beings rather than those of one sex - lest we forget this relationship is said to be frowned down upon should it not stand the test of time.**

**You are replaceable to them.”**

There then could be derived from a glance a notable change in Smithy’s irises, the hazel pigmentation shutting the curtains on his former self and revealing neon shifts of brilliant deep blues and greens. 

" **Home at last,”** Aristoteles remarked. “ **Do you still have the headset?”**

Smithy raised a finger to his chin - prior to the agonising, though partially satisfying, taste of certainty coating his tongue. “Yes...” he replied carefully.

Aristoteles slid his tongue against the ends of his sharp teeth in excitement. " **That man, Alan - he allowed Sarah Jane to use the Armageddon Virus against you, but has he not flew from the scene across the Atlantic Ocean now with his daughter? The humans have no means of acquiring anything like such a hindering trick up their sleeve this time - that is, if you carry out your task as close to immediacy as comprehensive and when any time which could be used for planning has surpassed them.** ” 

Aristoteles laughed. “ **You will be unstoppable;** **_we_ ** **will be unstoppable! There would be no requirement for me to continue manslaughter anymore, for the intentioned plan can return to light.** **_We shall no longer be in the timeline that God abandoned!_ ** "

Though Smithy hesitated. "The boy's at university."

Aristoteles scratched his nails against his hands.

" **Why not use the Fleshkind girl instead!?** "

And it was in that moment that, with consideration of the time taken to teleport to their target location and that deemed appropriate, Sarah Jane and the others flooded through the strip doors.

"What's happened here?" The lead lady demanded, shielding the children.

The screen used to capture Smithy's memories slid back into it's usual spot, and Aristoteles leaned forward with a glare of superiority causing those who made eye contact with him to flinch. " **What was** **_meant_ ** **to happen,** " he snapped, without so much as a flicker of the lashes. “ **Before you** **_meatbags_ ** **got in the way-** ”

“-But let’s not argue.”

A soft voice cut through, clever enough though to not be considered an interruption slicing into the heir’s words, and rather a continuation in the flow of language.

It was Smithy.

His eyes widened as he smiled. "You're here!” he chimed, as if oblivious to the circumstance. “Thank you so much for remembering me. How about we depart from here and head home?” 

The man outstretched his hands as he stepped forward, the dress flowing behind him in that same fashion as before. "Aristoteles has simply offered me a … stand of his Reverse Transcriptasia,” he told the others. “This will ensure a safe return to my Chassis, meaning we shan’t allow the strings of probability to attach to my limbs and cast me as their marionette in this play of life." 

He sighed, swiftly turning to the side in likely deep thought brought upon him. "This is going to be the last time you see me like this, and quite possibly the last time you see me at all. 

Ohh, I must apologise ... for all the scenes I have caused, and that I shall not yet cease to cause."


End file.
